#and now i’m platonic dating two of my anons

[m1d-45]

hello, I'm sorry I haven't been sending as much asks. I too feel like I fried my brain a little on sunday and if I don't have like new things to comment/write ask about then I don't rlly ask?

idk I want to bring new things into the table so if I don't have any I tend to stay quiet.

midas my love/p your most recent post? chefs kiss. I'm in love by how well you portray each character, especially wanderer since he's one of my favs (lvl 90 and widthsith r5/hes my baby)(xiao and kazuha too, anemo men my beloved)

I'm interested in this Diluc fic you have upcoming, I might wait a bit when it's published until I feel like I can handle the angst. my school has been kicking my ass

teddy darling/p I would love cheesecake, I haven't rlly tried it before but I'm sure yours will be great. also how do you not get scared by analog horror I'm in shock, I have to agree that what midas wrote on alternate! Xiao and zhongli made my palms sweaty and heart race, you both truly have a way with words

I am going to continue studying for precalc rn, but I have some ideas for little writings/art that I might send in later. I'm considering making a blog but idk if I'm comfortable with it.

- 🍄 (why does this feel like I'm in another land sending a letter to my spouses, I hope you have a great day teddy and midas)

[gazing wistfully out the window] when will mushroom return from the war…

off the bat don’t feel obligated to send asks, we’re just guys being pals and it’s ok if you’re silent for a while

second thank you, from one wanderer enjoyer to another (mines at 80/80 bc i need anemo rocks :( ) i’m glad you found his voicelines enjoyable. he speaks very particularly so i was worried i’d get it wrong-

(can’t believe i forgot but anemo men my beloved as well, i’ve been meaning to do lines for xiao)

good luck with your precal, i’ve never done it but shit looks hard. hope you make it out alive /hj

#m1d : [chats] #🍄 anon #crazy how when this blog started i told myself it would be strictly writing #and now i’m platonic dating two of my anons #just three people on the internet who barely know each other outside of shared interests. going to cheesecake factory and holding hands. #and i’m once again reminded ppl read my tags oh god oh fuck- #mushroom if you’re reading this i need idea for a 1k follower event please #or any other anon. or just some random person. pls i wanna celebrate but HOW #considering doing a thing where ppl send in their teams n i talk abt how they’d interact #but i saw another blog do something similar so now that feels like cheating #AAAAA #no creativity for important things only cope-writing with pretty boys #also idk where to put this but: you and teddy make blogs so we can have a gc and talk abt analog horror #and/or persona 5 that sounded interesting earlier #< /hj on that idea. it would be fun but i understand internet scary /srs #anyway. enough of me. bye ✌️ #oh wait and thanks for the compliment btw :) the thing with alternate!xiao didn’t age well for me (aka i went to bed and reread it in the #morning) but i’m glad you liked it :))

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,

✧ wc: 16,043

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!

“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,” 

You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it. 

You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead. 

“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?” 

“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,” 

“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,” 

You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?” 

“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,” 

“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?” 

“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” 

Yup, you have a headache now. 

“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?” 

Why were you considering this? 

“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?” 

“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?” 

“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“ 

“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble. 

“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor. 

And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it. 

Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life. 

And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this. 

He said your name, “Well?” 

He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did. 

It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place. 

“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself. 

Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now. 

His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was. 

“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh. 

You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?” 

“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,” 

“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror. 

“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?” 

“Gojo, this is—“ 

“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,” 

Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?” 

“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,” 

You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“ 

“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire  — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way. 

“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion. 

“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed. 

Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most. 

“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event. 

And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did. 

“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn. 

“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,” 

His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?” 

You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate. 

And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them. 

“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“ 

“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled. 

“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,” 

The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,” 

“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours. 

“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?” 

He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,” 

“No one can see us,” 

“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,” 

Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling. 

“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?” 

You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks. 

“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?” 

“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn. 

“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.

“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,” 

You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“ 

He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you. 

“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare. 

You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?” 

Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had. 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst. 

So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,” 

But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?” 

You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?” 

Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.” 

“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, “I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“ 

“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,” 

“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,” 

You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?” 

“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”

It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru. 

And you really didn’t hate Suguru —  it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him. 

You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs. 

And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend. 

“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“ 

“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?” 

But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it. 

“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“ 

“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,” 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?” 

You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,” 

His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm. 

And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.

“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”

“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.” 

“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,” 

He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.” 

And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—

You were already there. 

You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious. 

But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point. 

how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended? 

You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.

Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad

You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds 

It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge. 

This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later. 

This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you— 

“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?” 

“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,” 

“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?” 

He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter. 

“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?” 

“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,” 

“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it. 

“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them. 

All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t. 

He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one? 

You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again. 

Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen

You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy. 

You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept. 

You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen. 

You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?” 

“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?” 

“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,” 

“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?” 

You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly. 

“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?” 

“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,” 

He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?” 

Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,” 

“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts. 

“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,” 

But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”  

You glanced at the time, he’s late. 

Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a  way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground. 

Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked. 

Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad. 

It was probably the latter. 

You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel. 

“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,” 

You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?” 

“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh. 

“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch. 

“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?” 

“A bad rom com,” 

He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,” 

“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,” 

He sighs, running fingers through his hair,  “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,” 

“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,” 

“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table. 

“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,” 

“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,” 

“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,” 

“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,” 

You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,” 

And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?” 

“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem. 

It was unspoken. 

Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t. 

You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now. 

Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever. 

Your neck hurts. 

The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed. 

Or what you thought was your bed. 

Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear. 

Gojo. 

Gojo??? 

Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears? 

You really should have fucking known better. 

Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer. 

And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh. 

Fuck. Your. Life. 

He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes. 

Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first. 

And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?” 

“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—” 

And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone. 

“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur. 

“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace. 

“What is it?” 

“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?” 

You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,” 

Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan. 

Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.

“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,” 

“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,” 

He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?” 

“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long. 

“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

Right. Tomorrow. The wedding. 

Fuck. You were so screwed. 

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. 

You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress. 

Another knock. 

“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?” 

You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?” 

Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square. 

“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,” 

You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,” 

“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair. 

“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,” 

“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?” 

“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,” 

“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,” 

“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks. 

“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,” 

“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”

You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this. 

A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan. 

And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over. 

“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it. 

“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?” 

“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,” 

Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in,  “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his. 

Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—” 

“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?” 

Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?” 

Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you. 

“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,” 

And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh. 

“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”

Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—” 

“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips. 

“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—” 

“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?” 

His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“ 

Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act? 

Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins. 

And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru. 

Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him. 

Like it always never was. 

The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,” 

You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours. 

And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—” 

“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—” 

“My apartment isn’t—” 

“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away. 

“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo,  “Gojo, what do you want me to say?” 

He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“ 

The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“ 

“But what you said—“ 

“I said what I had to—“ 

“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room. 

“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“ 

“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?” 

“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“ 

“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,” 

“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand. 

“Give you what?” 

And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“ 

“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop. 

No, it was. It was, right? 

“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“ 

“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“ 

“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,” 

Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,” 

He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?” 

“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“ 

And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?” 

“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you. 

“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?” 

“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,” 

His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone. 

His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer. 

“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards. 

“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,” 

“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,” 

“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips. 

“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,” 

Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,” 

“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.

And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”  

“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress. 

He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?” 

Slap. It’s definitely a slap. 

“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest. 

“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?” 

“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance. 

“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you. 

“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,” 

“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders. 

“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away. 

“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.” 

~~~~

Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name. 

“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.

Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side. 

And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate. 

But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you. 

And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —- 

And he realized it was you. 

“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“ 

“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?” 

“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat. 

Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you. 

“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?” 

Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit. 

“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased. 

“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,” 

“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,” 

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief. 

He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit. 

His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,” 

And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back. 

You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined. 

“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,” 

And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips. 

“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin. 

“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,” 

And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.” 

Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“ 

“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life. 

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again. 

“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off,  I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.

He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body. 

“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle. 

“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,” 

“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes. 

“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—” 

“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—” 

“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out. 

“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face. 

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you. 

“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours. 

He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.” 

Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips. 

Fuck, it was real.  

You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake. 

But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more. 

“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse. 

“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?” 

“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort. 

“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body. 

“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,” 

You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,” 

And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer. 

“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?” 

“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips. 

“How about we make breakfast together?” 

“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.

“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good. 

“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?” 

He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,” 

You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again  — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?” 

And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”

He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,” 

“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck. 

“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,” 

“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile. 

“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,” 

And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?” 

“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze. 

And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,” 

“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.” 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present. 

And you supposed the soul wasn’t present. 

You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.

You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you? 

You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it. 

And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview. 

You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture. 

Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation. 

A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now? 

There’s only one person who’d text like that. 

Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now? 

He replied, it’s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business. 

Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly. 

You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink. 

Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head. 

You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you. 

But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that. 

“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman. 

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets. 

“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go. 

“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,” 

“I was expecting to meet 

I suppose we’re on the same page,” 

He tilts his head, “Really?” 

“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,” 

He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,” 

She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her. 

“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her. 

“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?” 

She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“ 

He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you. 

Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways. 

“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back. 

Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen. 

You needed to talk to him in person. 

And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet. 

You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt. 

“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,” 

“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,” 

“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line. 

And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,” 

“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” 

And he’s blinking, “Why?” 

“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—” 

“But you didn’t—” 

“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,” 

“Why do you always push me away when we get close?” 

“No I don’t—” 

“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?” 

“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”

He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,” 

You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?” 

“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?” 

“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“ 

“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,” 

“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?” 

He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“ 

“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“ 

“But—“ 

“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?” 

And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,” 

“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.” 

And this time he doesn’t stop you. 

It’s for the best. 

That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas. 

It was for the best. 

Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories. 

And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them. 

Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru. 

Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did. 

And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing. 

Fuck. You were home. 

You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye. 

Gojo? 

You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name. 

You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops. 

Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address. 

Satoru was…getting married? 

It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here. 

You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove. 

You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved. 

Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot. 

You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors. 

You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy. 

Even if it wasn’t with you. 

So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now. 

So you wait. 

And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom. 

That wasn’t Satoru. 

He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding? 

And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were. 

“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head. 

“But you—what?” and his brow furrows. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands. 

“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.” 

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?” 

You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze,  “Satoru—” 

His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips. 

“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—” 

And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it. 

“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek. 

“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,” 

And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,” 

“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake. 

“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,

“Well, you don’t know until you try.” 

✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).

✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz

#sab [mlist] #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo fluff

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi I’m the anon who submitted the ‘Hi! I hope you’re having a good day, I was wondering if you could do a platonic fanfic with parental Husk and Angel dust with a teen reader who tries to sneak out to prove their ‘adult’ enough to go out on their own. Maybe they get caught w a secret S/O 🤔’ ask and to answer your question I think a Huskerdust parental duo would be killer, thanks!

Hmmm… okaaay! That can work! This is my first Angel Dust writing as well! Let’s just pretend HuskerDust isn’t built on sexual harassment and that these two get married after a healthy relationship— just a little AU for a, could be, cute couple… if it’s handled better! Also, sorry… this is kinda short

Husk and Angel Dust- Growing Up

Before anything starts. Let’s establish how these two gay dads treat their adoptive teenage child!

Husk is a doting and caring but also strict and wise father. He gives off the most brutal but truthful advice and reality facts. He is a loving parent and won’t tolerate his child being mistreated or bullied so you can always turn to him when upset or in need for help, he is emotionally intelligent and protective after all

Angel, on the other hand, is the most affectionate and mindful father you’ll ever meet and have. He isn’t the one to deal out the punishments, he’s the fun one. Playing with his child, giving them unconditional love, support and encouragement but he is also quite protective. He will come running at the drop of a hat

Whilst both Husk and Angel encourage their kid to be independent and not rely so much on them, they aren’t a fan of letting you out on your own. You are still fifteen and therefore, completely vulnerable to this nightmarish hellfire realm called H E double hockey sticks

However, you’re determined to prove to both of your dads that you’re capable of defending yourself and be an adult so you’ve been recently sneaking out of your home and going around Pentagram City. On your own, no protective powerful Overlord father or protective infamous actor father

You’ve been doing it for weeks now. Going behind your dads’ back to prove to yourself, then to anybody, your complete and utter independence… but of course, all good things must end

And both of your dads had caught you escaping the house through the window and your beloved partner, a demon you fell in love with and begun dating in secret, just waiting in the backyard of your home whilst you climb out

Husk is very annoyed and ordering you to explain yourself, not at all happy with what you’ve done whilst Angel is dragging you off the windowsill and is resisting the urge to cry since his heart is broken

Your dads fend off your lover, not wanting to deal with them at this moment whilst they are trying to scold their child for doing this… and yes. This causes a big old fight with your parents. You just wanted to prove that you can handle yourself whilst your dads aren’t happy that you did something so reckless and harmful to yourself

Husk takes a bit longer to own up to his accident. Making you cry and angrily go to bed. You’re nearly a legal adult and they are shackling you… Angel can sense how you feel and immediately apologies for his lashout and tries to encourage his husband to do the same thing

When they do. They talk to you, accepting and encouraging, to try make a compromise inbetween you wanting to go outside at night to have fun with your lover, and talking to them and informing them about your location so you three will be happy

Husk lays down the must text them rule with this accommodation himself and his husband have made for you, their precious baby, that you must follow this at all causes whilst Angel is actually excited about you going to have fun on your own but begs you to inform either himself or his husband if anything bad happens to you

They just love you… please. Give them a break, they’ll try their best to let you do whatever you want on your own… as long as they know you’re okay

“Heartthrob. Do you have your present for your partner? Yes? That’s good. When you get to the party, text me or your father so we know you’re okay. That’s all we ask now. Here, let me finish rolling you up before you go”

“Fluffball! Fluffball! Fluffball! Aww! You look so precious! You’ll blow the competition off the dancefloor and you’ll make that partner of yours’ jaw drop! Make sure to shoot me or your dad a text when you’re there, ‘kay?“

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel characters #vivziepop hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel au #angel dust #husk #husk headcanons #husk x reader #angel dust headcanons #angel dust x reader #huskerdust #angel dust x husk #platonic angel dust #platonic husk #father husk #father angel dust #parent au #headcanons #angel x husk #vivziepop

[rapz-rites]

Oh Baby

Damian Wayne x Reader established relationship

Jon Kent x Reader (Platonic)

You’re not telling Damian something, and he thinks it’s that you're cheating

A/N: A lovely anon requested this. I hope you like it and feel free to send more requests or even message me.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: misunderstandings, pregnancy, secrets 

You and Damian met sophomore year at Gotham Academy. You were in most of his classes. But he never truly paid any mind to you until your government class. It was a small class of 15 students. 

Your government teacher was holding a class mock debate. 3 students would ask questions as there were 3 topics of discussion. The rest of the students would pair off into 2s and prepare on all the 3 topics as it would be random and no one would know which topic they might get. 

“The three topics of debate will be abortion, racial discrimination, and immigration. And the 3 question leads will be Marcus, Catelyn, and Luca. Everyone else, pair up.”

Girls immediately started surrounding Damian and the boys with you. Damian saw how uncomfortable you were with the boys' awful advances at you. He continued to ignore the girls and walked to you. 

“You can leave. I’m partnered with Y/N.”

Everyone was confused. Even the teacher. Damian never willingly chose to work with anyone. But you decided to take advantage of the opportunity before it went away. 

“Yup. It’s true. So all can go now.” With that, you waved them off and Damian took a seat next to you. 

Everyone else paired off and the teacher started talking. She explained the instructions for the debate and the rubric as it would be graded. 

“There are 15 minutes left of class. You have this time to yourselves, use it wisely.”

You turned to Damian.

“When do you want to start working on the project? I'm available after school today to work in the library.”

“I can't today. I am tomorrow though. Let's exchange numbers.”

And that's how it started. The next day, you and Damian started going to the library after school and texted about the assignment. Even after the in class debate you two would talk. 

Damian found you more tolerable than the rest of the kids at Gotham, and much smarter. He started hanging out with you more and more. In and out of school, obviously without his brothers knowing. 

Eventually, he asked you out, you said yes, and both of you started dating. It’s been over 2 years since. You both have a lot into the relationship. You and Damian opened up to each other. He gave you his trust, which is difficult for him, and you gave him your virginity. 

Though Damian wasn’t your first boyfriend or kiss, he was your first time. And you were happy about it. Even though it was a bit awkward, especially at the beginning, he made it special for you. He would ask if you were ok with something, how you felt, and he just took care of you. Something you never truly had with past boyfriends. 

“Oh my gosh!”

You and Damian only had sex 2 times, both in the past 6 months. Damian took care of you after and you peed.  You were both safe and used protection. That's why you couldn't understand the 3 positive pregnancy tests. 

“No. It can't be.”

You suddenly started crying, collapsing on the bathroom floor of your one-bedroom apartment. 

Since then you haven't been the same. After a few days of thinking, you decided that you would keep the baby. You lost your parents at 15, in an accident. They were wealthy. They had a mansion on the outskirts of Gotham, just like all the other socialites, and a condo near your school. In their passing your parents left everything in your name. You refused to go in the system. You were able to convince your old nanny to become your legal guardian, at least until you could get emancipated. You’ve always wanted a family anyways

You had to tell Damian. Your mind had been running through any possible reactions you'd get from Damian once you told him. Best case scenario he accepts it and decides to stay with you and be a father to the baby. Worst case, he leaves you and you have to raise the baby all by yourself. 

Damian noticed your odd behavior. You were secretive, jittery and would always make excuses not to hang out with him. 

“Sorry, I have a test coming up and need to study. I'll text you” you would say. But you never texted. 

“I'm volunteering this afternoon. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you.” You kissed him goodbye on his cheek and walked away

You did the same to your friends. He didn't understand why. Did he do something wrong?

Keeping your pregnancy a secret was eating you alone. You had to tell someone. So you texted someone you could trust. 

You: Hey. Are you busy? I really need someone right now. 

Suddenly there was a gust of wind in your condo. Before you stood Jon Kent. Before you could even speak, that’s when he heard it. Not one, but 2 heart beats. Before you can even process him getting into your place, he hugs and spins you. 

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” He smiles from ear to ear. “Wait. I probably should be spinning you.”

Once he put you down he started looking around. Where’s Damian? How come he isn’t here telling me with you? That’s when you started to break down crying. 

“He doesn’t know. And I don’t know how to tell him.” You say hiccupping. Jon just comforted you until you stopped crying. You explained everything to him. 

“You have to tell him at some point. He probably thinks that you're avoiding him because he did something wrong. But I'm here for you.” You hugged him crying. 

“Sorry, it's the hormones.”

For the next 2 weeks, Jon comes to visit you whenever he gets the chance. No one knew.

Clark and Bruce had to collaborate on some League business. So, he and Jon would be staying in Gotham for a few days. 

Jon was heading out when he passed the kitchen 

“Hey Jon” said Dick. 

Damian was paying no mind to them. He was testing you, hoping he could see you today. 

D💚: Hello Beloved

Beloved💜: Hiii Dami

D💚: Are you available today?

Beloved💜: I’m sorry I can’t 😕

                     I promised Layla we could hang out today

                     We can hang out tomorrow tho

                     Pinkie Promise 🤞

D💚: Okay 🤞

         Have fun and be safe

Beloved💜: I will try

                    Won’t be much fun without you 😚

Once, at school you were texting Jon. You were stressing over telling Damian for the 4th time that day… It was only 11 am. And you were spamming him phone

Jon 🦸🏻: OMG

            We’re both at school go learn or something

     ��      My parents are going on a date tonight so I’ll try to swing by

Y/N🤞🏾: ok ok

           See you tonight

“Hey Beloved. Who were you texting?” Damian came up to you. You quickly closed messages and put your phone in your pocket. 

“Hey Damian. It was Layla.” You responded hesitantly. “It’s nothing really but I have to go. I have to study before my test next period” You kissed him goodbye on his cheek and rushed off. 

He knew you weren’t texting Layla, he just saw her a few moments ago when he was looking for you. She told him that you were probably at your locker. Before he went to look for you she told him to tell you that her phone died last period. 

Why were you lying and hiding stuff from him? Damian didn’t want to think it, but were you cheating on him?

Damian looked up from his phone to notice Jon wasn’t there anymore. 

“Where did Jon go?” Damian asked. 

“He said he was going to meet up with ‘a friend’, but it’s obvious he’s meeting with a girl/boy the way he was nervous.” Dick responded

“We should follow him,” Jason spoke up. Damian didn’t know why he was here. Jason wasn’t too fond of staying at the manor. Usually, he would do whatever business he had, get food from Alfred then leave. 

“Sure. Why not” said Tim. Damian forgot he was here. But they all agreed. 

You hated lying to Damian. You decided that when you were going to see him tomorrow, you were going to tell him the truth, everything. You were meeting with Jon to get everything ready to tell Damian everything tomorrow.

Incoming Call: Jon 🦸🏻

You immediately picked up. You were sitting in a booth at yours and damian fav coffee shop. Damian thought that they had these great muffins that tasted even better the day after, so you were going to get him some.

You told Layla about your pregnancy after you told Jon. She was very upset with you. That you didn’t tell her first. 

“I can’t believe it. I mean I can because between both of us, you would have kids and I would be the hot, rich aunt that they love.”

You laughed at her little rant on how your kid would call her “Auntie Lay” and she would bring gifts every time she saw them. How she would have a room for them to crash at her place for when they're a teen and they get mad at you, or they just want to spend time with their auntie. 

“Thank you,” you said as you got up and hugged her “for being here for me. I don't know what I would do without you and Jon”

You were so glad that you had Jon and Layla. 

Jon was walking up to the coffee shop when he saw your call.

“Hey Jon. Layla and I are at the shop, where are you?”

“I’m across the street I’m heading in now.”

Jon didn’t realize the boys were following him. They were confused as to why Jon was at this coffee shop. He had never been there before. 

The boys watched Jon walk in and waited. Eventually, he would come out with whoever he's been secretly meeting up with for weeks. 

Being the type they are, they didn't notice Layla coming out of the shop and getting into her car. She was waiting for you and Jon to go back to your place. 

“He's coming out now,” Dick said excitedly. They all froze in anticipation. What they didn’t expect was to see you walking out after him. 

Damian's heart was breaking. You were secretly meeting up with Jon and cheating on him behind his back. How could you? He kept watch in hopes he was wrong. 

You walked out with a light brown paper bag in hand. You were struggling to seal it without dropping it. That’s when Jon took it from you and sealed it himself. They didn’t have audio but they had visuals. They could say thank you to him.

“Thank you my hero,” you said with a small giggle. Suddenly your face was serious. 

“What if- What if even if Damian accepts this, he won’t regret it later? He won’t think we ruined his life?” 

You started tearing up. From the angle the boys were at they couldn’t see your face. Jon hugged you. 

“Shhh it’s going to be fine.”

“What if he thinks I’m trying to baby trap him and he'll end up hating me?”

You were about to cry when Jon took your face into his hands. You were like the sister he never had. He hated to see you cry. 

“Listen to me. Damian could never hate you. He loves you.”

You nodded and hugged him again. That’s when Damian’s heart truly shattered. 

“I can’t read lips that well but I saw something along the lines of ‘I love you’” Dick said. Damian took off is “disguise”, it was just a hat and sunglasses.

“So she's cheating on me?” Anyone could hear the pain in his voice, even Jon did. 

Jon suddenly let go of you, and turned to look at Damian. He could see the pain written all over his face. Even though mind reading wasn’t a Kryptonian power, he knew what he was thinking: that you were cheating on him with him. 

You were confused. You moved over to see what Jon was looking at. That's when you saw Damian with his brothers. Now he was looking at you.

“Oh no.”

Part 2

So… what do y’all think??? Please let me know.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #jon kent x reader #jon kent #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #robin damian #dc comics #dcau #batfam #batfam x reader

[jackhues]

(mockingbird au!) be okay - platonic!hughes

request: jack and reader get in an argument and he's really mad and chooses to leave to cool off so he doesn't say anything else that he'll regret, she calls quinn to talk her through her panic before jack comes back apologizing

requested by: anon : )

notes: i have mixed feelings on this, but it's not bad. continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv ,  @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey ,  @lam-ila ,  @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91  , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 ,  @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes ,  @mitchymainer ,  @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002  ,  @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 ,  @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

join my taglist!

gif not mine!

“then why is melanie telling me you guys were making out?” you repeated.

“i’ve been telling you this for the past ten minutes, but i never kissed her!” jack began to raise his voice. “i haven’t even seen her since that new years party you threw. and i was with you the entire time for that.”

you refused to back down, “you’re saying melanie — one of my closest friends — is lying to me about something like this?”

“yes!” jack agreed. “that’s exactly what i’m — you know what? i can’t. you don’t even believe me, and i can’t do this right now if you’re just gonna keep accusing me of something i’d never even think of doing.”

you watched as jack grabbed his phone and keys, storming out of your shared apartment. part of you wanted to go after him and apologize, while the other part was telling you to stand your ground.

there was no reason melanie would lie to you, right?

after all, she was one of your first friends when you began college. the two of you hung out a lot, and she’d always thought jack was amazing.

at the same time, there was no reason for jack to lie to you either.

dropping your face in your hands, you sat on the couch.

jack was probably the best thing that ever happened to you. after a run in with the eighteen year old jack, the two of you had ended up getting along really well — eventually dating. you never had a boyfriend before, and you hated when the two of you fought.

for some reason, this fight felt like the end of something.

“oh god,” you muttered to yourself, the tears beginning to flow.

you reached for your phone as it rang, picking it up immediately.

“jack?” you asked.

“oh shit,” em, another friend of yours, said. “you didn’t tell him about what melanie said to you, did you?”

“you know?” you sniffled.

“melanie just told me,” she said, sounding a little out of breath. “she was lying, y/n. she was just bragging about it to me, and i left because i needed to make sure you didn’t tell him. please tell me you didn’t tell him.”

you froze,”why — why would she do that?”

“she likes jack,” em explained. “that’s what she told me. she said a lot of bad things about you, and that if you accused him of cheating, the two of you would break up, and in his heartbreak, she’d get him. she’s messed up, y/n. i don’t think you should be talking to her after this.”

“no, i — i need to go,” you shook your head, ending the call immediately.

you dialled another number, nearly crying in relief when quinn picked up at the second ring.

“quinn, i did something stupid,” you whispered, crying. 

“talk to me. what’s wrong?” he asked.

you began to tell him everything. about how melanie called you that evening while jack was at a game, claiming he kissed her a few days ago. she said she was ‘looking out for you’, and that she felt you deserved to know what he did. the devils lost that night, so jack was already a little upset, and your accusation only made it worse. you confronted him about it, he denied the entire thing, and the two of you had a huge fight — your worst one left.

“and he — quinn, he left,” you sniffed. “i don’t know where he went, he just left. and i - i don’t know what to do, because i don’t want to lose him, because this is all my fault, and-”

“this isn’t your fault,” quinn insisted. “you can blame it on melanie, but you can’t blame it on yourself. jack was already upset over the loss, and he took out some of his anger on you. you know he doesn’t like getting mad, especially not at you. he’s probably taking a walk, or at nico’s house to calm down. just breathe, y/n. you guys are going to be okay.”

“you don’t know that,” you whispered.

“i do,” quinn stated simply. “i know that jack is absolutely crazy for you, and that there’s no way he’ll ever leave you over a misunderstanding like this. i know you’re so in love with jack that there’s no way you’ll leave him either. just calm down, and give it a little while. he’ll come home. and if he doesn’t, i’ll talk to him.”

your breathing came a little easier as the conversation with quinn flowed. quinn had that effect on people. he could instantly make them calm down and feel safe. after learning of your shitty childhood, quinn tried his best to always make you feel safe. he just hated that jack was the reason he had to do it right now.

you perked up at the sound of footsteps in the hallway.

“wait, wait, i think he’s home,” you said to quinn.

“you want me to hang up?”

“i’m scared,” you admitted.

“just breathe. you guys are gonna be okay,” he reminded you. “i’ll stay on the line as long as you want.”

you placed your phone to the side, the assurance that quinn was on the other end of the line giving you some sense of ease.

“i’m so sorry,” you and jack blurted out at the same time.

“no, no, i started the argument,” you stepped forward, pausing unsurely in front of jack. he reached for your hand as if it were second-nature to him. “i — i trusted melanie too blindly, and i didn’t take in the fact that you’d never do something like that, that that’s not who you are. i know you didn’t kiss her, and i’m so, so sorry for accusing you of that. i — i don’t know why i didn’t stop to think that melanie might be lying, or to even ask you. i — please tell me we’re okay.”

“hey, we’re always okay,” jack pulled you into his arms, tears in his eyes as well. “i’m sorry for walking out on you like that, i should’ve taken a walk on the balcony or something. i just — i needed to clear my head, i don’t like fighting with you. but we’re okay, i promise. we’re okay.”

quinn smiled to himself on the other end of the line, hanging up the call. 

he knew they’d be okay.

#mockingbird au! #naqia's au's! #naqia writes! #jack hughes #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes blurbs #quinn hughes #platonic!hughes #platonic!quinn #platonic! quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes imagine #hughes brothers #platonic #new jersey devils imagine

[lyomeii]

two heads think better together (mostly of the time)

->warnings: none!

-> request by anon! Hi! How are you doing? So I saw that you were writing for The 18 Year Old Villainess Attack Story and was like so happy because it's really rare dor people to know about that manhwa/webtoon. Then Can I request platonic Park Ji-hun x Sister! Reader where she helps him and Do-eun(Liza) to get together and overall they both have a funny sister-bro relationship. Thank you Hope you have a good day

->a/n: yes! yes! someone who read it too, im so glad :D if anyone hasn’t read it, give a try please 🙏 the entire story is completed for what I know and it’s currently one of my favorites now. the concept of a villainess reincarnated into the author’s body is something that catch me surprised when I first read it. this is one is short anon, sorry!

-> it’s kinda pathetic seeing jihun acting like that. how your brother’s expression suddenly change whatever that girl step in the room, leaving him almost dumbstruck. after moving to this new school, he got super closer with that short haired girl…could it be that your older brother has a crush? probably. and you are going to make fun of him.

-> once jihun came home, you already questioned him about the cute girl that you saw with him earlier. it was too hard to not notice him red when that short haired girl talk with him. and as expected, he told you about his crush on do-eun.

-> of course, you are as happier he is right now. and even you did made fun of him for acting like a lost puppy around do-eun, you are going to help with his crush and become his wingman til the very end. a easy mission right?

-> you were dead wrong. jihun is the definition of “I’m scared that she will reject me.” and you are “you don’t even tried, dude.” duo. sometimes you want to give up on helping your older brother, still, you promised to help him and you definitely want to embarrass him during dinner by bringing his girlfriend over.

-> with a little help of you behind the scenes, jihun brought that nice green dress to do-eun and got extra time with her alone during the school trip, yet it took way more time to both of them get together. in the end, it was her that confess in the end, making you question if was worth on helping him at all.

-> the two of them are really cute together! despite jihun calling you in middle of their date to ask for advise, everything is going really smoothly between them. you even befriended do-run brother and began spending time with him after classes, sometimes at his bedroom reading comics or at those arcades he likes bring you.

-> you hope to this time of your life never end, especially with jihun being so happily with that girlfriend of his.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#manhwa x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #park jihun x reader #park ji-hun x reader #do-eun x reader #the 18 year old villainess story #yandere manhwa #yandere x female reader #female reader #x female reader

[soracities]

Just a note from the other side of unrequited love - I (f) was completely blindsided when my friend (also f) told me she was in love with me. I thought we were just very good friends who’d known each other for a decade.

Her telling me was very sweet, but now I think about it, just added to my stress - I was telling her about one of my lowest points (which at the time was recent) where I had been made to feel completely inferior, and in return told me I was perfect to her. I sincerely thanked her, surprised by her insistence, and continued my story, but she interrupted me to tell me again that I was perfect. And that she loved me.

She asked my feelings - said it was fine if I didn’t feel the same. I think I knew in my heart that I didn’t, but I was so shocked and wanted time to think it through, which only confirmed I didn’t feel that way about her. I told her in one of the most awkward conversations in our friendship, and said that I hoped we could stay friends if she wanted to. She did.

And so we continued. I’d asked her when she told me - how long? when did you realise? what made you realise? - but she couldn’t answer. Though I’d been curious, I put them out of my mind for her comfort, and tried to return to normal.

It’s different now, though, for me, and I don’t think she realises. She makes occasional comments about how good we’d be as a couple because of how well we get on, or jokes about how we fall into traditional stereotypes of husband and wife. She’s even offered a few times again, jokingly-but-not, saying “I would still date you if you ever changed your mind…” She occasionally asks about my love life, and reiterates the offer. I make my feelings clear, and we change the subject, but I think I need to have a direct conversation to end it because I feel so uncomfortable every time it comes up as I know I won’t change my mind.

At first, I felt like I should love her the way she wants me to. How shallow am I to throw away a relationship just because I don’t feel romantic or sexual attraction to her? But I’m realising that to place such expectations on myself is unfair, and that shallow as it may be, those are two of the defining features that delineate platonic and romantic love. I’m the person she is closest to outside her family, so even if I thought space was best, I know it’d break her. She’s absolutely wonderful, as a friend. So I continue, keep things light hearted, tell her it’s not something I want when she brings it up, and worry inside when she starts planning our “supposedly platonic” future of buying our own apartment together… I’m fine really, but just wanted to say the other end of unrequited love is hardly ideal either!

i can completely, completely understand this, and i really, really hope you are able to have this conversation with her sooner rather than later, for both of your sakes so that you, and her, can begin to move on. no matter what this is always such a delicate situation and trying to navigate it with care and consideration for both of your feelings is never easy and never going to be without pain or heartbreak, no matter how much you may wish to mitigate that.

for what it's worth, i don't think it is being shallow--you can, absolutely, acknowledge your own needs, and respect those needs, while at the same time recognizing that someone else doesn't meet them and that this doesn't detract from their character either--it's not fair on yourself to carry such discomfort in your friendship and no matter how you go about this you cannot avoid the hurt because it is not so much a question of if there will be pain but when; your friendship should be able to nourish you both in the healthiest way possible and i hope, again, that you can open this conversation with your friend soon because it really sounds like it is needed. i'm sorry you're in such an uncomfortable and tricky situation but i'm sincerely wishing you the best through this, anon ♡

#ask #anonymous #also to be honest i dont think its fair of your friend either to keep bringing these things up with you

[gunilslaugh]

hi!! i js wanna say i'm obsessed with your work it's SOO good! i wanted to ask if you can make a fic or a one shot ab yandere jungsu or gaon trying to win over plus sized reader(fem or gn idc!) like they have been bsfs for a long time and they can't stand seeing the reader being with anyone but them? and it's a bonus if they're obsessed with the readers body(NOT SUGGESTIVE like in a fluffy way & sry if i'm asking for too much TT) only if you're comfortable and i am a new anon! >< thank you!

Welcome new anon! I'm not comfortable writing yandere, so I left that part out I hope you understand. Hope you enjoy reading your request still :)

Kim Jungsu

Summary: Jungsu has been your best friend for many years, but he wants to be more.

WC:~1.3k

Warning:grammar

  -Plus size reader (it’s barely mentioned though, I wasn’t quite sure how to write it sorry)

photo not mine credits to owner.

Kim Jungsu is your best friend, the person you spend most of your time with. Currently the two of you were in your room, sitting opposite to each other on your bed playing a card game. Your phone went off with a message notification. You looked over seeing what it was. It was a coworker from work asking if you were doing anything next Sunday. 

“Who is it?” Jungsu questioned, setting the cards in his hand down. 

“Just a coworker,” you answered, turning your attention back to the card game. Deciding that would answer them later. 

“Shouldn’t you answer then?” He pressed. You placed a card down, making it Jungsu’s turn.

“It’s not about work. They can wait,” you say. Jungsu grows curious about why they’re messaging you then if it’s not about work. “Your turn,” you tell him. Jungsu snaps back from his wandering thoughts, picking up his sat down cards and taking his turn. He couldn’t really focus on the card game though, too curious about what your coworker wanted. 

“What did they want then?” He breaks, needing to know the answer. 

“Aren’t you nosy?” You joked. “They just wanted to know if I’m doing anything next Sunday,” you told him.

“I’m your best friend, it's my job to be nosy. What if they’re trying to replace me?” Jungsu defended. You laughed at his ridiculousness.

“Jungsu, what are you saying? No one could ever replace you,” you state. 

“They better not,” Jungsu once again puts down his cards, but this time he has no intentions of picking them back up again. He climbs over now sitting adjacent to you. 

“Aye! What are you doing? We’re supposed to be playing,” you say. 

“I don’t want to play anymore,” he pouted, leaning over to place his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your middle. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt, ghosting against the skin there. Jungsu was always clingy, he loved touching you, cuddling with you, platonically. At first his touches made you feel self-conscious about your body. Specifically the fact that you were on the heavier side. You know Jungsu never judged you for it, but others did and it left you feeling bad some days. However, Jungsu was always there to tell you to not listen to those people. It’s your body not theirs. That you should only change if you want to, not for others. He loves you no matter what.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jugsu, what looks better? The pants with this blouse or the skirt with this blouse?” You asked for Jungsu’s opinion. Holding up the pants and skirt.

“What’s this outfit for?” He checks. 

“Remember that coworker who messaged me asking if I was free Sunday?” You questioned. Jungsu nodded. He felt a pit begin to grow in his stomach, suspecting that he didn’t like where this was going.

“Well he asked me out on a date and I said yes!” You said excitedly. Jungsu was right, he didn't like where this was going at all. Jealousy began to bubble up in his stomach. He liked you for years. He always looked out for you, was there for you, took care of you. Granted he never confessed his feelings to you with words, but how could you be so blind to not see his love for you through his actions. His hugs that lasted a little bit too long. The way his hand often found its way to your own or found itself rested on your thigh. How he memorized all your drink orders, favorite foods, movies, t.v. shows. He would drop everything and run to you the second you needed him. 

“The pants,” he answered mouth feeling dry. Did you not once think that he might like you? 

“Thanks,” you smiled, heading into your bathroom to change. Jungsu decides that he needs to up his game. To win you over, so that you’ll never think about going out with another guy. He wants you to be his girl. 

“So when’s your date?” Jungsu quizzes, hiding the jealousy inside of him.

“Seven,” you told him, beginning to go through your accessories. Jungsu looks at the time, six o’clock, which means you’ll be leaving soon.

“I guess I should be heading out then. Have fun on your date,” he lied through his teeth. He hopes that it doesn’t go well. It going well is his worst fear. “Call me if you need anything,” he added. 

“I will thanks again,” you say. Jungsu leaves, making his way back home. Hoping that when you talk to him tomorrow you'll tell him that your date didn’t go well. He can’t even sleep because of the thought of you being with someone else.

The next day Jungsu and you arrived at a cafe for lunch. 

“So how was your date?” Jungsu asked teasingly, raising one eyebrow. Making his true feelings. 

“It was nice, but I don’t think we actually suit each other. There wasn’t really anything there,” you tell him. Jungsu feels relieved. The jealousy that was living inside of him vanished. Now all he needed to do was win you over.

“Unlike us,” Jungsu played flirtily. His comment caught you by surprise. He never outwardly flirted with you before. Yes he was affectioned and maybe the way he traced lines over skin could be viewed as more than friendly, but it was never like this. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly. “Unlike us,” you repeated the words, wondering what exactly they were supposed to mean. 

Jungsu has been increasingly flirty ever since that lunch. Instead of just holding your hand he would now press soft kisses against your knuckles too. The action made your heart flutter, but you were unsure if it should. Did Jungsu have romantic intentions behind this or was it just more platonic affections? He’d also sit so close next to you that your legs would touch. Lately it seemed like he found a way to constantly be touching you. He did more things for you too. For example, he would open every door for you that he could. Jungsu would also open your water bottles before handing them to you. He started picking you up from work, which led to your colleagues thinking that he was your boyfriend.  

“Jungsu,” you called his attention. The two of you were walking back to your house after spending the evening hanging out together. Your fingers were laced together, lightly swinging back and forth as you both walked.

“Yeah,” he responds, looking over at you. You looked at your linked hands, pulling them up.

“What does this mean?” You asked. 

“Have you finally noticed?” Jungsu returned. Stopping in his tracks causes you to pause with him. “Y/n I’ve liked you for a really long time. I fell for you only a few months into our friendship,” he confessed. This new information took you by surprise. Every now and then you did think about dating Jungsu. He was basically the most perfect boyfriend could ask for, but you didn’t think that he would’ve liked you back. Thinking that all his affections and actions were just platonic. “After you went out on that date with your coworker it made me realize that I don’t want to lose you. I want you to be mine and I want to be yours,” he continued. 

“I want that too, Jungsu,” you confessed. “I just never thought you’d view me as anything more than a best friend,” you revealed. 

“How could I not view you as something more?” Jungsu laughed. “You’re all I could ever want,” he stated. 

“You’re all I could ever want to,” you smiled. 

“Then will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” Jungsu asks. 

“Yes,” you say, nodding your head with a bright smile. Jungsu engulfs you in a hug. He pulls away only to press a kiss on your cheek. The two of you then continue your walk back home, happier than ever to be each others.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh jungsu #jungsu x reader #kim jungsu #jungsu

[softwebss]

Oh m gee girl the last fanfic you wrote was just >>>> *chefs kiss* loved it- also act you knowing who I am hehehhshshde you might or might not ill never tell ;) anyway cos im obsessed with Peter Parker…. hc mcu! Peter Parker meeting y/n and falling in love with her in first sight, and doing everything he can to get her to like him~ bonus points if my dude mr. stark or Loki (loml) helps him flirt with herrr~~~~

🌸 anon <3

Oblivious (( peter parker x reader )) ♡ author's note: Flower anon you sure are cheeky >:D thank you for feeding ur hopeless writer with ideas huhuhuhu~ also im changing this bit format cos the old one looks horribly OOGLY ehhehsswdwdfsfs- also this is placed after homecoming but before far from home (aka when tony stark is alive because i refuse to believe he's dead lmao *cries*)

♡ synopsis: peter parker meeting y/n and falls in love in first sight, and tells her unexpectedly. strangers to best friends to lovers au.

♡ pairings: peter parker x fem!reader, platonic! loki x peter parker, platonic! tony x peter parker

♡ word count:

♡ warnings: fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers au, mild swearing, one sexual reference because tony blackmailed me and forced me to write that >:((, peter being a flustered MESS because I love him that way skdjksjsf

—

You were the newest intern at Stark Industries. You couldn’t have imagine how you got in, compared to the hundreds of other people who applied. You squirmed into the building, awestruck at how the building was so large. You hitched your breath and kept the files close to your chest. A bag was pulled by your right hand, and as you entered the place you stopped to admire the architecture of it.

The place was bustling with fancy men and women in suits. You flushed, looking down to your attire. A casual oversized hoodie with a pair of black tights. Your hair was let open, and you thought you looked like a mess compared to everyone else.

All the posh ladies had their hair tied either in a bun or a ponytail. You shuffled through your purse to check if you had a spare scrunchie. 

You suddenly heard a loud crash from behind. Startled you stumbled back. Before you could say anything, someone ran into you, pushing you back and making you drop all the files and paperwork.

“Not this,“ you mumbled, running a hand through your hair. This was not a good start to your day. 

You bent down to pick the papers up, when an unfamiliar boy came to help you. He picked the files up before you could react and handed them over to you, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Who-“ You were cut off by him apologising.

“I’m so sorry for shoving you, “ The boy went on, “I was running late and didn’t see you and I-“

“It’s fine,”

“You could’ve gotten hurt-“ “Nah,” You shrugged, “It really isn’t that big of a deal,” 

The boy looked about your age. A bit taller than you, and he dressed around the same way. He was wearing a bone white shirt which read a geeky science joke. His curly brown hair reminded you of that one fictional character you had a crush on in first grade. The resemblance was uncanny.

“It isn’t every day you knock a pretty girl over,” He blushed, putting his hand in his pocket. “Why don’t I treat you for a cup of coffee to pay you back?”

Your cheeks reddened. The feeling of heat rose in your face. “I would- err- love to but,” you started, “I’m an intern here and if I bunk my first day, Mr. Stark would probably have a bad impression of me.”

He burst out in a grin. “I know Mr. Stark personally, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you do it once. And I’ll obviously tell him I initiated the idea if he asks.”

You debated if you should go or not.

‘Heck,’ you thought to yourself, ‘I get the chance to talk to a cute guy who doesn’t think I’m a idiot for once, I’m not getting rid of this chance’

“It’s a date then!” You smirked, watching him blush.

—

Two months passed by. You were currently Mr. Stark’s favourite intern. Now that you knew Peter Parker (the boy) was also interning, you could spend all your time with him. You hanged out with the Avengers with him, and told all your secrets to him. 

One time you caught Peter changing out of his Spiderman suit, and knew why he was disappearing at random times and why he knew everything about the Avengers (mainly because he is one)

Peter was your best friend, you couldn’t imagine what you’d do without him. He sneaked in your room during the night and talked to you for hours. You never told him about your little crush, scared that he wouldn’t return the feelings for you.

Little did you know, he was falling hard. From the moment he saw you, he was in love. Peter would do anything to steal little moments with you, from almost losing Aunt May’s trust from visiting you every night, to showing you top secret inventions in Tony’s lab. When you were in concentration to do anything, he stopped whatever he was supposed to do, and stared at you, taking in the essence of your elegancy (even when you were stuffing food in your face which did not look elegant to everyone but him)

Thing was, you didn't notice. This was the first time you had a best friend, and you couldn't draw the line between romantic or friendly. Peter would buy you a box of your favourite chocolate and the whole series of that one book series you've been wanting for the past week, and you'd say it was a 'best friend thing' as Natasha smirked evilly and Clint laughed hysterically

"BEST- OH GOD SAVE ME- NAT DID YOU HEAR THAT- AHAHAHAHA-" Clint wheezed. "Don't tease the young lovers," Natasha rolled her eyes playfully. "He isn't in love with me!" You exclaimed. "Suuureeee he isn't," Clint grinned, "The same way I don't think Thor is the hottest avenger." "Gaaaaayyyyyy," Tony yelled from across the room. "Like you don't think the same, Tin Can!" Clint stuck his tongue out

You huffed and walked out. Stupid Avengers. —

"She's so cute..." Peter thought out loud, from behind the entryway of the kitchen. You were doing your math homework on the kitchen counter, and you threatened to kill anyone who disturbed you.

Tony, who was making pasta in the, leaned back. "You think so?" He mused.

Peter stumbled back and balanced himself, scared from Tony's outburst. "Oh- mister Stark- h..hihi!" He said all too quickly. "I Didn't- didn't see ya- oh boy I did not see you there- haha-"

Tony raised and eyebrow and walked towards peter, draping an arm around him. "First of all kid, she has her headphones on so she can't hear us even if we scream," He said, "Second of all, cut the shit son." "What?" "Yeah, We know you like her" "WHAT!?"

Tony sighed. "It's not like you're hiding it well, you're acting like a lovesick dork around her."

Peter flushed. "I don't act like-" "You almost tripped on the stairs and broke your nose trying to give her roses on her birthday." "It was her birthday! I couldn't not give her something!" "Roses, parker. You gave her roses and you expect me to think you don't like her romantically."

Peter bit his lip. "Maybe I... Maybe I do have a small crush on her-" "Small?" "Fineeeeee, a big crush," He murmured, "But I know she'll never like a loser like me..."

Tony shrugged, glancing back at him, and then you. "Don't worry, kid. I have a few tricks up my sleeve." A smirk was plastered across his face, and Peter knew trouble was brewing.

—

"No, No I am not doing this," Peter vigorously shook his head, talking to this earpiece attached to his ear, where he could communicate with Tony and a specific mischievous god who overheard their little 'conversation' in the kitchen island when he sought some Swedish Fish He wore a slick black suit and tie, personally tailored by Loki, who took an interest at the 'spiderling's love life.'

There was a prayer to Freya, norse goddess of love, sewn on the cuffs in gold and tints of red, for good luck.

"Small Spiderling," Loki comforted, his silky smooth voice instantly calming Peter, "I have seen you with Lady Y/N. It is no secret that you have feelings for her, she is an impressively kind and considerate woman."

"I mean, loads of other guys like her too, y'know," Peter whispered into the bug.

"Trust me," Loki smirked, "I have my ways of guessing. 99.999% I'm right!" "If you aren't- I swear I'm gonna chop your horns off, Reindeer Games," Scowled Tony.

Peter took a deep breath, standing at your door, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. "Kid, you did this before. Why can't ya do it now?" Tony asked through the earpiece.

"Because I wasn't confessing my eternal love for her that time!" Peter grumbled. He nervously knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer.

You swung it open, and were delighted at the sight of him. "Peter!" You said, gesturing him to come in. "I didn't know you were coming tonight!"

He flushed and handed the flowers over to you, "These- These are uh- for err.. for you," Peter stumbled on his words.

You twinkled, taking them from his hand. "These are wonderful, Petey!" You sniffed them, taking in the smell blissfully. "But.. What's the occasion?" you asked obliviously. Tony facepalmed from his end.

"Oh," He started, "I just, uh, wanted to tell you something for a, errr, long time."

You didn't hear him, and instead went inside to keep the flowers in water.

Tony groaned at your sickly sweetness. "Just do it already, spandex-man!"

Peter sat at the edge of your sofa, regretting listening to the two men. He just couldn't have been just friends. Hell, this could ruin your friendship!

He would rather be a platonic interest in your life than not even be in your life. He was sure you'd hate him if he said the dreading three words. How was a girl like you supposed to like a boy like him?

"How?" He murmured. You had your back turned to put the flowers in a pot.

"Just slide over with a seductive smile and confess. Who knows, you might even get laid today!"

"MISTER STARKKKKK!" Peter gasped. You turned around on your heel and furrowed your eyebrows.

"Is anything wrong, Petey?" You inquired. "N-nope!" his heart warmed at the affectionate nickname. The poor boy couldn't help but be a flustered mess. "Oooookaayyyyy" You said, giggling, and facing the other way.

Peter straightened his suit and fixed his tie, walking towards you. 'It was now or never' Loki stated.

"Petey?" You asked, at the sudden stance of him towering over you. You set the vase aside and focused on him. His impeccable jawline looked so sharp and dashing, that you almost forgot about the bumbling boy who you talked to all the time.

The room was getting a bit heated, and you just noticed this was the first time you saw him in a suit. No, not a superhero suit, but a proper tuxedo. "I have to tell you a secret," He started.

"And what is that?" You flaunted, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. "Do as we practiced," Loki demanded. Peter scrunched his nose and bent lower, looking you straight in the eye. You stood still, afraid to move a muscle. Was this charming boy, your Peter?

"You do know I'm the best secret keeper to ever exist. right?" You nervously bantered, a smile tugging at the edge of your face. "Promise not to tell anyone," He said breathily, his face meeting yours. You leant toward him, taking in the essence of his cologne. "I won't, promise," You whispered, dead serious. From across the line, Loki and Tony smirked deviously.

"You swear?" "I swear," "You really aren't going to tell anyone?" "Not a soul," "Not even your best friends, MJ or Betty?" "Just tell me already, you idiot!" You huffed.

Peter tilted his head and put and finger to your chin, raising it to meet his eyes. You stuck your tongue out playfully, rolling your eyes. Peter broke out from his sudden seriousness and laughed. You couldn't help but join in.

"Dude, what was that?" You wheezed incredulously.

"I'm sorry!" He cringed. He couldn't stop letting out loose laughter. Tony guffawed loudly from his end. Loki facepalmed at how badly his plan went.

The sight of you snickering hysterically, the light of the sun from the windows hitting you in such a way, that you looked ethereal, made his heart soar.

"I love you so much," Peter breathed out giddily. You paused, looking at him in awe.

"Petey," You mumbled in a small voice, "Did you just say you... you loved me?" "Uhhh-" Peter's face was beet red. He stammered gibberish and avoided your eye contact, when you pulled him toward you by the collar. You kissed him tenderly, and he felt extremely ambiguous from it. Your lips crashed against each other, locking into his. His entire body buzzed from the unexpected smooch. His cheeks were burning up, and his lungs clenched. You ran your fingers through his hair, messing it up. He rested a hand on your hip, pulling you against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and grinned eagerly through the kiss. You broke free and saw his stunned expression, and let out a loose chuckle. He caressed your face gingerly.

"Took you long enough," a snarky remark escaped you. Loki and Tony smiled knowingly, realising what the long silence meant. "I love you too."

"You don't know how relieved I am to hear an oblivious idiot like you say that,"

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #mcu! peter fluff

[dearest-painter]

Gary from Bully with shy fem (if u wanna add: Slavic) reader please? :-) a few headcanons would be really appreciated. Just someone who’s not into fighting and doesn’t risk at all

Thank u in advance, dear. Hope you’re having a good day/night so far :-) <3

Thank you!!! So I’ll imply their Slavic as I am not Slavic but I will imply it! Also went with a platonic approach

TW/CW:Gary himself, Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive relationship, abusive behavior, I am not slavic myself and will just be implying they are for anon!, Gary being the shit out of people, Gary forcing you to pretend to be his sister, Someone getting beat up(it’s bullworths), basing all of Reader’s shyness off of me being shy and having social anxiety!, Insults, degrading(It’s gary), tell me if I need to add anything

Summary:We all can go a LITTLE crazy for our family every once and a while even if they aren’t related to us by blood! That doesn’t mean we don’t love them even if they don’t believe that! We just gotta ENGRAVE that in their tiny little brains! :)

-You two definitely grew up together so your pretty used to his bullshit and all his insane behavior. You just don’t say anything as he’s your first ‘long’ friend

-He definitely made sure you call him brother when others ask about your relationship as he’s the only man who’ll ever care about you in any significant way so just do what he says! No it doesn’t matter that your Slavic and he’s not he’s still your brother!

-he’ll be less rude to you but that doesn’t mean your safe, he’ll call you rude names or make cruel jokes about you but if he sees it really got to you he’ll give a half assed apology

-No your not allowed to date, he won’t let you date anyone at all! If you do they have to meet a list of acquirements they have to meet to even go on a DATE with you (which surprisingly only Jimmy fits…just don’t let him know that or he’ll add more shit)

-If he sees someone trying to fight you he immediately joins in. “Listen I’ll cut to the shit, get the HELL away from MY sister or I’m going to shove that nerds glasses so FAR UP YOUR ASS YOUR PUKING THEM OUT FOR MONTHS! NOW GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DUMB SISTER!” He’ll then lead you away while ranting about how ‘he’s the only person who’ll ever do anything for you and that you should just rely on him!’

-Definitely uses the fact your jealous to his advantage as your to shy to communicate to anyone you don’t trust so he just makes some lies about everyone so that you only have him left!

-He’s always around you but if he can’t he has eyes everywhere so don’t think your safe! He knows every little thing you’ll do!

#✉️mail arrived✉️ #genderfluid enity answers! #yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #female reader #yandere x female reader #yandere bully #bully x reader #bully game x reader

[eroticwound]

Maybe part of my resistance to boxing Carmy and Sydney strictly into the “platonic” category is that I’m not even sure, based on what we’ve seen over the two seasons, if they are even friends. Sydney has been at the Beef/The Bear for a little over a year now (?), so maybe the window has been small to get super close, but you look at her relationships with the other characters and there’s imo much more clarity as to those friendships: she and Marcus of course are very good friends, he was probably her first friend at The Beef; she and Tina, it took some time to build that trust but once it was there Tina became her work mom and Syd values her companionship; although not shown explicitly, I also want to argue that Sydney and Nat have built a friendship of sorts since the end of s1 - they came up with CP at some point, meaning Syd felt comfortable enough (and Nat encouraged) talking shit about Carmy with her when he’s being Carmy. And the omelette was such a lovely act of kindness and care. Syd and Richie’s dynamic is significantly better than in s1, but it’s a bit awkward and kinda in the category of work friend that was once your nemesis but now you happily tolerate, if that makes sense? I do think it’s less intense between them by E10, and I’m curious how them working together like that on expo will make Syd more inclined to trust Richie more. The rest of the crew id say are amicable work friends to just associates?

That leaves her and Carmy. They’ve got crazy chemistry off the bat, their minds operate on almost the same level, completing each others sentences, etc etc. But while that’s great evidence of their strong work relationship, I can see Sydney if asked saying that Carmy is more so just a guy she works (and now is a business partner) with, whereas she’d definitely say Marcus is a good friend, yknow? Syd has huge emotional walls built up, doesn’t like to be vulnerable, though she’s done so when either one of the guys urge her to share more. From Carmy’s end, he actually might (subconsciously) view Sydney as his friend thanks to their easy connection. He also picked Sydney, whereas all of his current “friends” were just inherited from Mikey (sorry Fak). Doesn’t mean he loves them any less or that they aren’t his actual friends — just that with Syd, he’s starting fresh in making a friend. He really wants to get to know Sydney — how she’s feeling, what her former bosses think of her, what Sheridan was like, what her relationship with her parents is like (and he feels guilty for not knowing about her mom) — but his probing always happens in the context of cooking or the kitchen, and so Syd’s default is to be guarded or resort to humor. And I think that there were indications that they were growing closer through the chaos menu, but then he starts to date Claire and that project (and building a friendship) was put on hold for a long time and instead there was big a disconnect cause they weren’t communicating. So like yeah, there are platonic elements, but I say these two are operating as a more ambiguous, “secret third thing”. And especially after E10, I don’t know where their pre-friendship progress stands going forward cause I see their relationship as the one that may need the most repairing post Friends & Family 😔

hey anon! sorry for the delay answering this. i appreciate you dropping these bear thoughts in my inbox :)

i’m not sure what made you think i believe syd and carm are platonic? unless maybe you saw me tag something with “i’m a sydcarmy queer platonic truther.” if that’s the case, let me assure you that puts me firmly in the “secret third thing” camp with you. basically, i think it’s likely carmy is on the asexual spectrum, and what’s more “secret third thing” than a queer platonic relationship?

i agree with your reads on the other, clearer relationships between syd and the bear employees (tho i think there’s also a mentor (syd)/mentee (tina) quality between syd and tina. and marcus obvi feels less platonic/more romantic towards syd)

as for syd and carmy… idk, it’s the most complicated dynamic on the show. i disagree that syd views carmy as “just a guy she works with”—this is a guy she can be *creatively vulnerable* with, a colleague who has serious accolades who is telling her they’re working at the same level. who is telling her out of all the high end chefs he knows, he wants to collaborate with her. like, he believes in her and her food so much that he’s made her his partner in all of this. and that’s in addition to the crazy chemistry you reference! being a chef isn’t just a job for them, it’s an artistic calling. collaborating like they do is more on par with a directing duo than people who just work together in the same department. they make each other better at their chosen art (like that’s straight from under the table scene)

but i agree their friendship is.. in its infancy at the least lmao. and i think your reads for why syd is hesitant are correct. carmy’s only tryna get close and ask personal questions when they’re cooking (because he doesn’t know any other way to bond). that being said, besides her dad, she’s never shown chilling with anyone outside of former or current coworkers. syd clearly forms great relationships with her coworkers, like you point out and as further evidenced by her food crawl in sundae. but it’s heavily implied that syd is just as addicted to work as carm, and might not have a huge circle she hangs out with regularly (yet another syd/carm parallel). she’s got walls, like you say, and is shown to be uncomfortable with a lot of emotion (and can sometimes be a dick about it, like with mikey’s hat <3 ). so there’s allll that at play from syd’s end.

and i do agree that carmy views her as a close friend. i like that you point out everyone in carmy’s life except syd is an inherited relationship. that’s SO TRUE. in general, carmy is really delayed and unaware when it comes to relationships—ALL relationships, not just romantic. fak claims carmy and him are best friends but carm doesn’t think so, or rather he’s not really sure. he hasn’t had enough close friends to say. he thought mikey was his best friend, but then was frozen out and realized he knew nothing about him. he wants to be closer with syd, suggested the palate cleanser, which would have been a great way for syd and him to build their friendship, but then claire came along :\

i *am* super stoked to see where syd and carm’s relationship shakes out next season. like carm’s in suuuuch a bad place, and then syd is SOOO anxious about failing. i fear it’s going to get worse before it gets better… but i do think they’re meant to be together in the best (secret third thing) way :)

#anon #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #bear meta #meta #sydcarmy #but qpr sydcarmy >:)

[finn-wolfhard]

heyy, can you write a Chrissy/Fem!Reader where their secretly dating behind Jason’s back 😔

Thanks for these requests! I started writing anon 1s request and realised I was incorporating anon 2s request so have merged them together. I think I'm going to make it a series? It's to be continued anyways. so here's part 1! Hope this is in the ball park of what you guys were wanting <3

Part 2 • bonus sex scene ohye

Secrets Part 1

Pairing: Chrissy x fem! reader (female anatomy and she/her pronouns)

warnings: none yet - cheating? I guess?

words - 902

“chris… you ok?” 

The girls bathroom near chemistry was the only safe place for you and Chrissy. No peering eyes, no disruptions, just a bunch of reasonably unused stalls that could use a spruce up by the janitors. The lights gave you a headache and you wondered if they had been changed since the 50s. It was your meeting spot, and had been for the past year. Walking in, you were confronted by a terrified Chrissy who looked like she had just seen a monster … but that was impossible. Upon seeing you, she ran to give you a hug - but this hug was scared and pleading for your protection. 

“hey! Hey, its alright! What happened?” You realised she had been crying.

“I feel I’m going mad, y/n” she was able to sniffle out. She had brought up a couple of things that had been scaring her recently, something about a grandfather clock, spiders, and her mother. 

“Have you been seeing that stuff again? Chrissy, I told you to go speak to someone about tha-“

“I have.” She cut you off, pulling away from the hug and looking into your eyes. You could tell she was telling the truth and was at a lost end. You pulled her back into you, kissed the top of her head, and let her know you were here now and nothing was going to hurt her. 

Chrissy was your partner for your freshman chemistry project. Something about oxygen and the effect it has on different cells or something - you can’t really remember. What you can remember, however, was the late night studying sessions that ended in movie marathons, music recommendations and listening parties, how far across the room Chrissy could successfully throw pieces of popcorn into your mouth, giggling fits, and the one kiss that changed everything. You weren’t out, and neither was Chrissy, and you both had boyfriends at the time that you both felt feelings for. Girls can kiss their friends sometimes, right? And it not mean anything? Oh, but it did. And you both knew it. You absolutely had feelings for your boyfriends, but this just felt right. Better. A couple of months later, you and David had called it quits. Something about how you seemed distant and you weren’t available as much as you used to be. Partly because the guilt was eating you alive, mostly because you realised you had feelings for Chrissy. And you knew she felt the same, she just hadn’t admitted it yet. 

Over the next couple of years, you two didn’t stop. She’d tell her parents she was having a sleepover with Y/n, her best friend, and they didn’t suspect a thing…and neither did Jason. Did it annoy you she was still with him? Absolutely. But you didn’t say anything incase it ruined what you had. After all, you guys were just friends, right? Friends who do each others hair, talk about boys, listen to music,  kiss, and cuddle when they sleep. A totally platonic friendship. One day in school, she took your hand and lead you to the bathroom in the science hallway. She was looking at herself in the mirror, and you in the background. 

“so, did you get your results?”

“A in both of my essays!” She whirled around in excitement, hugged you, then planted a congratulatory kiss on your lips. The atmosphere changed, the tension rose, and she slowly went in for another, sweeter kiss. This one wasn’t like the ones you two had shared before. It was in public where anyone could walk in on you. But you didn’t care. You had been expecting this. Needing it. “I’m so proud of you” she said, softly, pulling away. You gave her a shy smile and looked away. Cupping your face and bringing you eyes to meet hers, she went in for another kiss. This one was longer and became more passionate by the second. 3 kisses in school. 3 kisses where anyone could walk in on you two. 2 kisses that confirmed she liked you like that. Holy. Fucking. Shit. The bell interrupted the moment, but it didn’t ruin anything. After that, you two started meeting in the bathroom more often. After English, after Biology, after Spanish. Some sweet and loving exchanges, some more passionate and rough. The only condition was that Jason could never find out. Or anyone, for that matter. And that was that.

Presently, in senior year, you were standing in the bathroom, holding a tearful Chrissy. 

“what did the school councillor say?’

“Not much, she just listened and told me I wasn’t crazy - but I think I am, y/n”. This is not how you expected this exchange to go. A little make-out before PE, nothing extreme. But this was new, and strange, and not like Chrissy at all. 

“Why don’t we ditch and go get ice cream or something?” Her eyes lit up, momentarily, then her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I said I’d meet Jason after.” This depleted you. You assured her it was fine and that you could sit with her in here for a bit but she insisted she better go and that she didn’t want to spend another second in there. You watched her leave, and then you searched the stalls for anything strange. Weirdly, you had a fleeting thought that Chrissy may be doing drugs, but pushed it away as that’s not something she would do. You were sure of it. 

#chrissy cunningham #Chrissy Cunningham x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things requests

[alotofpockets]

Could this be more? | Kate Bishop x Reader

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader; Clint Barton x Kate Bishop (platonic)

Prompt: “Do you think this, us... do you think it could ever… be something more?” (full request)

Requested by: anon

Word count: 850

masterlist | requests: closed | taglist

“Why don’t you and your girlfriend come over for dinner this weekend, the kids have been asking for you the past two weeks.” Clint says during a sparring session with Kate. Kate freezes in place by the question, which results in her being too zoned out to block Clints attack. She falls to the ground, hitting her head in the process. Clint is quick to help her up, “I’m so sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He says concerned. He takes her to the living room and sits her down, before heading to the freezer to get some ice.

When he comes back with a frozen pizza in his hands Kate jokes, “I love pizza, but I don’t think it would be very helpful in this situation.” Clint rolls his eyes and hands her the pizza, “We’re out of ice, this was the only thing in the freezer. Put it on, it will help with the pain and will make the swelling less.”

“Now tell me kid, what happened out there?” Clint asks with a concerned look. He knew Kate could get distracted easily but didn’t see any reason for her to be this time. “You said you and your girlfriend. I don’t- I think you meant y/n, but she- she’s not my girlfriend.” Clint looks even more confused now, “Y/n is not your girlfriend?” Kate shakes her head, which prompt Clint’s next question. “But.. you want her to be?”

The answer to that question was easy, of course she did. She has wanted that for a while now, but you are best friends, she didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had by confessing something that could make her lose you. She told Clint all about it, hoping he would have some advice. Which he did, “By the way the two of you act around each other I assumed you were dating. So, in my eyes she thinks the same way about you, Kate. I know it’s scary, but if you really feel this way about her I would tell her.” When Kate didn’t totally seem convinced he tried one more thing.

“You know Laura was my best friend before we started dating, right?” Kate’s eyes widened, she did not know. Clint told her about their story to hopefully get Kate to confess to you and eventually drove her home, not trusting Kate to drive herself. With a new frozen pizza on her head, she let herself into her apartment. Where you were already sitting on the couch playing a video game. The second you saw Kate you stopped the game and got up.

“Honey, what happened?” You say walking closer and lifting the pizza box slightly to see how bad it was. “Clint kind of knocked me to the ground during training, but I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.” She smiled at your scrunched up nose. “Clint did what?” You say, sounding like you’re ready to fight Clint Barton who also happened to be the Hawkeye. “It wasn’t his fault, no need to fight anyone.” Kate says with a chuckle and sits down on the couch, once again putting the pizza box to her head. “It was my fault, I got distracted.”

“Oh, Kate.. you have to be more careful with yourself. You know I’d like to keep you around for a bit longer.” You say with a wink as your hand puts the hair that fell in front of her face behind her ear. Kate diverts her eyes from yours, “Y/n, can I ask you something?” You nod for her to go on.

“Do you think this, us... do you think it could ever… be something more?” Kate asks struggling to find the right words to ask you, making a slight blush appear on her cheeks. Your cheeks turn a similar shade of pink. “I think we definitely could.”

Kate looks at you with a faint look of shock in her eyes, “Oh ehm okay, I didn’t think this far ahead. I never imagined you’d say yes. Ehm let me think, what’s next?” You smile at her nervous rambling. “I could help you with that. Next you could kiss me and then as me out on a date.” You say, surprising yourself with your confidence. Kate smiles back, “I can do that.”

She puts the pizza box down and places her other hand on your cheek, gently pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was everything you dreamed of it being. Her lips were soft on yours, your lips moving in synch. The way your whole body felt warm from the gentle was she was kissing you.

When you part from the kiss, neither one of you can stop smiling. “Y/n, will you go out to lunch with me tomorrow?” Kate asks, your foreheads still connected, “As a date.” You kiss her again, after saying you would love to.

The rest of the evening you spend cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. Both with a smile on your face that was going to be there until you fell asleep.

Main taglist: @yellowvxbes // @xxromanoffxx // @xxxtwilightaxelxxx // @wandanatvoid // @wandaswifeyforlifey // @marvelwomen-simp // @snooy245 // @peggycarter-steverogers // @wandas-slut-heart // @nats-dreamland // @hoe4flosblog // @laaurrel // @catasha // @t00manyfand0ms // @multifandomlesbianic // @bandit2029 // @avengerswriter4eva // @gigistylestomlinson // @snowdrop1026 // @sylvies4ever // @youreatotalposer // @mellowladyangel // @milfloverslut // @natasha-danvers // @lyak12 // @smallestavenger // @when-wolves-howl // @svftpetker // @la-reine-des-enfers // @official-chaotic-wandamaximoff // @b0r3d-s1mp1ng-b1tch // @bubblensqueak002 // @imabee-oralizard // @rafecameronswhore // @be-missed // @romaaa28 // @youresuchamom // @youralphawolf72 // @maia-lightwoood // @rootbeerfaygo // @elliesayshello869 // @vllowe // @princessprudy // @nightingalexx

Kate taglist: @kacka84

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x you #hawkeye series #hawkeye #marvel imagine #marvel #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop fanfic #clint barton #clint and kate

[jackhues]

(mockingbird au!) colours - platonic!quinn hughes

request: i’m new to your blog but i’m obsessed! for the mockingbird au i was thinking like y/n wants to dye her hair but is scared the hughes family might judge because of the way her dad did and like quinn being there for emotional support and she gets all good things said about it

requested by: anon : )

notes: sorry this took so long, but i rlly like how it turned out, managed to fit a bit of jack x reader in this too! continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @hockeyboysarehot , @ratkingbunting , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley @huggyhugh , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe &lt;3

join my taglist!

gif not mine!

you scrolled through pinterest mindlessly.

as always, social media seemed to know exactly what you were thinking, feeding it all to you. as of right now, your feed was filled with hair dye inspiration.

pink, purple, blue, red, the colours were so lovely. you let yourself fantasize about them for a moment, imagining the colours in your hair. purple would look amazing, but green was such a pretty colour too.

the door opened, causing you to exit the app with practiced precision. 

you felt a little guilty, considering it was only jack entering your room. you trusted him more than anything, but old habits die hard.

“hi,” he smiled at you, his hair wet from the shower. the towel hung low on his hips, leaving little to the imagination.

you had been laying on his bed, scrolling on your phone as you waited for him to finish his shower. the two of you were supposed to head to the beach later that day, and then out for a cute dinner date.

“hey handsome,” you threw a wink in his direction, grinning as he blushed a bit.

he rolled his eyes, rifling through his clothes for something to wear. you continued scrolling through tiktok, double-tapping occasionally, but mostly just flicking to the next video.

“oh shit!” you grunted as jack threw himself on top of you. “jack! holy crap, you’re so heavy! off, off, off!”

jack laughed, resting his head on your stomach as he refused to get off of you. “can we just stay here? this is so much nicer than the beach.”

“if you asked me this two years ago, i would say yes, no hesitation,” you told him. “but, you and your entire family has got me obsessed with the water, so unfortunately, it’s a no. now get up, hughes. we’ve got a beach to go to!”

-

your pinterest feed was still filled with inspiration to dye your hair.

you sighed wistfully as you saved images and scrolled through the pictures. you were so engrossed in the fantasy of dyeing your hair, you didn’t notice someone else entering the kitchen.

“that looks nice,” quinn commented as he walked past you to get some cereal. “you gonna get one of those colours?”

you jumped, shaking your head. “a little warning would be nice.”

“i’m sorry, i’ll be sure to announce myself the next time i enter a room in my own house,” quinn joked. “the purple one looks cool. it’d look nice in your hair.”

you examined a strand of your hair, looking back at the picture quinn was talking about.

“really? you’re not just saying that, are you?” 

“no, seriously,” he assured you. “the red would look nice too. honestly, a lot of these would look amazing in your hair. you know, there’s a salon like fifteen minutes away. if you want, you can make an appointment and head over. mom’s been there a million times, so i know it’s a legit place.”

“i’ll think about it,” you told him, before switching the conversation.

less than an hour later, you found yourself texting quinn, asking for the number to the salon.

-

“you look so nervous right now,” quinn laughed as he parked the car.

“it’s not funny,” you told him, bouncing your leg. “i didn’t tell anyone. oh my god, i didn’t even tell jack, or ellen, or anyone. you know, maybe this isn’t a good idea. let’s just go back. yeah, i think i wanna read a book, or watch a movie, or maybe anything else.”

“woah, calm down,” quinn said, raising his hands. “it’s hair, it’s not a big deal. if you don’t like it, you can always dye it back. or choose a new colour.”

“what if jack doesn’t like it?” you mumbled. “or if everyone thinks i’m a weirdo. i don’t know, quinn. i don’t like this idea.”

“are you serious, y/n?” quinn looked at you. “give jack some credit, give the others some credit too. do you really think they’re gonna be upset with you over it? they all know it’s your hair, and whatever you do with it is your choice. no one’s gonna judge you, i promise.”

you took a deep breath, but you still couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling in your bones.

“i’m sorry, i’m not being fair to them,” you muttered.

you’d known the hughes family for years, and you knew that none of them would truly judge you for something as simple as dyeing your hair. but the way you had grown up made it hard for you to fully accept that someone could be so loving and accepting of everything. 

“don’t apologize,” quinn told you. “let’s go to your appointment. we don’t want them to cancel it. they don’t give refunds.”

you laughed weakly, following quinn to the salon. after registering with the lady, you headed over to the area she motioned, taking a seat in one of the chairs. quinn shot you a thumbs up before taking a seat in the waiting area.

you were relieved that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“let’s get started,” your hairdresser, mindy, smiled at you.

a few hours later, you were driving home with quinn, staring at your new hair in the mirror. you’d gotten the bottom half of your hair dyed a dark red, similar to the narcissa malfoy hairstyle. it was a little subtle compared to the other colours you’d been looking at, but you didn’t want to go all out on your first time.

“i take it you like it,” quinn grinned as you twirled your hair.

“i love it,” you corrected. “it’s so pretty, i don’t know why i didn’t do this before.”

you faltered, remembering why you didn’t do it. the glares and scoldings you would’ve gotten were too much for you to even think about it before. 

you took a deep breath, trying to force those memories and thoughts out of your head. you weren’t there anymore. you weren’t in contact with your parents for a very long time. and the hughes were completely different from them. they weren’t going to hate you for just dyeing your hair.

“it looks great,” quinn told you, shaking you out of your thoughts. “trust me, y/n, they’re all gonna love it.”

you smiled, “thanks, q. it means a lot.”

“anytime kid.”

the two of you entered the house, making your way to the living room, where anyone who was inside would be gathered.

not surprisingly, it was only ellen and jim watching a movie together. jack and luke were most likely already at the beach, trying to show off over the dumbest things they could think of.

“hey, you two back already? where’d you guys go?” ellen looked over, smiling.

“out and about,” quinn shrugged. “gotta show y/n around the city since she’s part of the family.”

you smiled a little, grateful that quinn hadn’t outed you before you were ready.

“did you have fun?” she asked. “please tell me that someone picked up my strawberries from the farmer’s market.”

“i got them,” you laughed a little. “i put them in the fridge because it’s hot outside.”

“thanks, y/n. you’re my compensation for raising three boys,” she grinned.

you laughed at quinn’s sulky expression, shaking your head to yourself.

“did you do something to your hair?” jim asked, narrowing his eyes as he scanned it. 

you froze up a little, trying not to think of your dad.

“yeah, i - um - i liked the colour,” you answered, a little quietly.

“it looks nice,” he smiled at you. “oh, and it even matches your outfit.”

you looked down at your red t-shirt, feeling yourself smile a little. it did match your outfit. 

“oh my god, that looks so pretty on you,” ellen gushed. “you look amazing, honey. honestly, i’m surprised jim noticed before me. i would not put money on that.”

jim made an offended noise, “hey, i’m very attentive.”

“mhm,” ellen muttered.

you and quinn shared an amused look, the four of you bursting into laughter. 

the front door opened, immediately letting in the loud noises of jack and luke. you weren’t sure what they were saying, but they were probably arguing over something stupid. 

“she wouldn’t!” luke said to jack, turning on his mom the second they entered the living room.

“yes she would!” jack argued. he looked at ellen, “mom, wouldn’t you get mad at luke for eating five ice creams in a day?”

ellen raised a brow, but nodded, “he’s smart enough not to do that. aren’t you, luke?”

“obviously, i’m not an idiot,” he rolled his eyes. “but i’m an adult! i think if i want to eat five ice creams, i should be allowed to.”

“not at all,” ellen shook her head.

luke turned to you pleadingly, “y/n, back me up on this. if i wanted to - not saying i did - i should be allowed to eat five ice cream in a day, right? i’m an adult, mom can’t get mad at me for that.”

you raised your hands in defense, “i’d back you up if it was anyone else. not going against mama hughes. sorry, kid.”

luke groaned in a very youngest sibling-like manner, before slumping onto the floor. there was a beat of silence, before everyone broke out into laughter, including luke.

you and the boys gathered around ellen and jim, talking about anything and everything, the movie still playing in the background.

you leaned against jack, who’d been oddly quiet since winning his ‘argument’ with luke. you looked up at him, only to see him already looking at you.

“hi,” you whispered, narrowing your eyes.

“hey,” jack responded, though he sounded a little distracted.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked, tilting your head in his direction.

he shook his head, his hand coming up to play with a strand of your hair. you froze up for half a second, forgetting that you had dyed it. you gauged jack’s reaction, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

his finger twirled around a dyed strand, a thoughtful expression on his face as he played with it idly.

“you don’t like it?” you cringed.

“huh? no, y/n, i like it,” he assured you, blinking back to reality. “trust me, i really like it. you look hot. well, you always do. you look more hot. it suits you.”

you smiled a little, the relief you felt practically overwhelming you. you didn’t say anything, only curled a little closer to jack. he understood perfectly, kissing the top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

your eyes met quinn’s, who was wiggling his eyebrows and motioning towards jack.

you rolled your eyes, even though there was a fond smile on your face. ‘thank you,’ you mouthed.

quinn nodded, because there was nothing else to be said. you were family. he’d do anything for family.

#mockingbird au! #naqia's au's! #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fics #jack hughes x reader #platonic! quinn hughes #platonic!quinn #platonic #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #naqia writes!

[vampsquerade]

Could u do the task force finding out that the male reader (who is part of the task force) used to date valeria

oh hell yea i can do this >:o thank you so much for requesting anon! happy new year btw, i wish for nothing but love and prosperity upon all ye who gather round 💕

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Task Force 141 x Male!Reader (Rudy, Valeria, and Alejandro Included): Resurfacing Pasts

Trigger Warnings: slight angst, mentions of past drug use, past relationships, unresolved emotions, platonic friendships

“Ay, que lindo…you dogs decided to bring in—not just one—but two little surprises while interrogating me. How many years has it been, amor, since we last saw each other?” Valeria asks. You push down every bit of venom you want to spit out at her, remembering your prior relationship to her. You look over at Alejandro, who’d been previously pissed off and was even more pissed. “We’re not here to recount memories of prior relationships. We’re here to get information—now you best start talking before you see the difference between the military, and me.” Phillip said menacingly. And of course, the interrogation of Valeria caused a lot of emotions to flow from both you and Alejandro during this time.

The two of you are yelling that she’s a liar, and nothing good would come from her if either the 141 or Shadow Company strike any deal with her. The amount of anger you held caused you to step out, infuriated by the whole ordeal, and spend some time talking with Alejandro about her before the rest of the 141 steps out and begins asking you how you met. “What the bloody hell was that in there? You’re from a completely different task force than her and you knew her before she started selling drugs?” John asks. You sigh, letting your shoulders slump as you let your guard down, “Before I joined the military, I was kind of stuck in a position that caused me to rely pretty heavily on marijuana. I met Valeria before she started selling drugs, dating in secret due to her admitting to me of her crimes beforehand. Told her I didn’t care and eventually once she started her business, she supplied me.” you explain.

Johnny’s eyes widened, crossing his arms against his chest, “So for how long did you date her?” he asked. “A good year and a half. Like I said, I relied heavily on the products she was giving me. At some point I was the tester for the marijuana she sold and she would sell what I said was the best—I made her a lot of money off those decisions, and I wish I could take it all back.” you say. “Well, I guess you can now. We caught her, so there’s a good chance we stopped any and all business she has.” Simon says, crossing his own arms against his chest. “I suppose you’re right. But…at least I’m fixing things by throwing her in a cell. She took advantage of me when I was at my lowest and used me to grow her empire. El Sin Nombre will be the last I ever know of her.” you say.

“If only we didn’t leave you back in Al Mazrah. Maybe we could’ve gotten this kind of information sooner if we brought you over with us.” John says. Shrugging it off and giving him a limp wave to not dwell on it, you give him a soft smile, “Happens. Sometimes we don’t realize the people we know tend to hold more significance in operations. Hell, I didn’t even know I was eventually going to be on the opposite side of her.” you say. “Glad to have you around, though. I can’t lie, but I reckon she’s a bit daft for not making you sober—you’re a bloody genius when it comes to tactical attacks, mate.” Kyle chimes in, bumping his fist against your shoulder. You laugh, playfully doing the same to him, “The same could be said about you, Gaz. I wouldn’t know half the shit I do now if it wasn’t for you.” you say.

Kyle gives you a grin, only for it to falter once John puts a hand on his shoulder. “Enough. You boys go and find somewhere to rest yourselves before our next objective.” he says. You all agree, walking over and finding a place to settle down both yours and Alejandro’s nerves. “So, what’s Valeria like? In a romantic sense, of course.” Johnny asks. “Fuckin’ hell…” Simon mumbles, shaking his head. “What?! I just want to know!” Johnny exclaims, putting his hands up in defense. “Well don’t ask me, cabron. Te tumbo los ojos si tratas de preguntarme.” Alejandro says, only to be calmed down and reassured by Rodolfo that Johnny’s question went to you.

“I’m not too sure how she was with Alejandro and I won’t ask to avoid getting the shit beat out of me, but when I was with her…she was kinda just very controlling. Sure, she loved me and all that, but she needed every single thing to be the way she kept it. Any interruption for anything also irritated her to the point that she’d get rid of her own men,” you say, only to be then cut off by Kyle’s curiosity. “So you could say that she’s like a cobra—deadly once a wrong move is made.” You give a nod and hum, “Mmmhm. But, she had the capacity to be very loving. She constantly bought me whatever I wanted no matter how much or how little it cost. She’d always call me sweet names and took very good care of me. After all, I was her puppet until I broke out of my trance and escaped.” you say.

“And how was she whenever you needed to test out a new product?” Johnny asks. “Overbearingly nice. She would pamper me and smooth talk me into trying it, calling me her ‘good boy’ whenever I eventually agreed.” you say, slightly flustering as you recount such a memory. “Interesting…I can make some jokes about that.” Johnny says. You laugh, clearly making sure it was as malicious and sarcastic as possible. “You do that and I can very much assure you you’ll be dead in a ditch in no time if you did.” you threaten, giving him a cheeky grin. “Very blunt, just like Lt. here. Think you’ll ever fall for another woman like her?” Kyle asks. You put a finger to your chin quizzically, pondering the thought.

While it would be nice to just be taken care of, you wouldn’t really want it the way you did all those years ago. Rather, you’d want someone to help find love within yourself and themself and make sure that there was nothing ever attached to that love other than romance. “Nah. Love’s gotta be done the right way—gotta be completely pure and careful with it. There can’t be any interference.” you say. “Hm, wise words coming from the mind of an ex-addict.” Simon says. You simply shrug, “One learns a lot when they get their head out of their ass once their time in the clouds comes down.” you say. “Agreed. Now then, let's just take our time to relax for a bit, yeah? No more silly questions about the enemy’s role as a partner.” Kyle says. “But don’t you think it’s just a tad bit amusing to talk about?” Johnny asks. “No.” both you and Alejandro say simultaneously, causing Rodolfo and Kyle to laugh as Johnny pouts.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod price #captain john price #john price #price x reader #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod soap #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x reader #cod gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #cod alejandro #alejandro vargas #cod rudy #rodolfo parra #cod task force 141 #cod los vaqueros

[slightly-smarter-nat]

Okay so for a platonic fic, can it be a Tony and fem!Reader one? They would be in the lab, working on suits or gadgets for the team, or simply just messing around and causing explosions all while listening to AC/DC and dancing around and lip syncing? And just wholesome best friends hanging out kind of thing between them? And for a bonus, their girlfriends (Pepper and Natasha) walk in the lab and see the two goofballs just being chaotic and wonder why they’re dating them? 😂

Thunderstruck || Tony Stark

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Suggestive themes mentioned, fake medical information/ test results given, explicit language. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word count: 3929 words.

A/N: Thank you for the request anon, I really appreciate it!! Any friendship with Tony would be chaotic for sure! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

GIF not mine

Thunderstruck: Tony Stark-

“I’m on the highway to hell, on the highway to hell, dun dun!” You’re in Tony’s lab, ‘helping’ him work on some of the outdated gadgets that the team are due a major upgrade on.

As Tony screws in the last bolt needed to seal one of his gold-titanium alloy repulsor gloves together, you accidentally knock into him as you enter your own version of the iconic ‘Highway To Hell’, electric guitar solo- imaginary but very entertaining may you add.

“Hey Angus Young, get over here and let me see how this looks on you?” Tony holds out the repulsor, signalling for you to place it on your hand as requested.

You dance your way over to Tony, appreciating the music resounding around his lab, “My guitar skills are on par with Angus, thank you very much-“ Tony rolls his eyes, knowing your sarcasm levels give him a run for his money, “Anyway, this is for your suit, why do I have to wear it?”

You shove your hand into the repulsor, admiring how Tony’s signature red and gold details shimmer in the light as they cover your hand in metallic form of protection, “Well, I’m trying to see if I can make this prototype suitable for a nano-tech upgrade. I need you to hold it for me so I can see how it looks as I modify it, is that alright with you?”

“Sure thing Stark. Wait, it won't send out a charge or anything if I wear it, right?” You ask nervously, attempting to avoid any further damages being caused by yourself in the billionaire’s lab.

You’ve only just been allowed back in by Natasha after the last incident, in which it wasn’t completely your fault, but the huge hole that was formed in the flooring, that leads straight into your shared bedroom down below with Natasha didn’t go down well.

Tony places his pair of A.I. glasses on as he inspects the repulsor carefully; guiding your hand into an open palm position for him to work directly on, “Relax, it’s not connected to a suit, it will be fine. Now hold still whilst I-“

Before Tony can finish his sentence a golden blast is sent across the room. Tony barely dodges it as he ducks for cover. However, as you did not anticipate such a force, you are sent flying back into a pile of cardboard boxes that are decorating Tony’s lab.

As the crashing impact sound ceases, Tony slowly brings himself out from under the desk, removing his glasses at an unhurried speed as he studies the damage, “Oh shit. Pep is going to freak out if she sees this.”

His high tech lab is now equipped with an unforgiving hole in its structure, allowing the serene nature from outside the compound to be viewed from within the lab.

As the rubble from within the broken material continues to fall in a staggered motion, Tony moves to assess the ruins, “Yikes, that might be a tough one to cover up.”

You suddenly push the stray cardboard boxes from yourself, letting out a series of groaned pains from the harsh impact delivered from the blast.

Tony rushes over to help you, lifting you up instantly and attempting to dust you off with his hands, “Okay, you know when I said it wouldn’t go off, I obviously lied.”

Your eyes widen at the gaping hole in the wall, quickly throwing off the repulsor that remains on your hand.

You smack Tony on the arm, causing him to let out a small ‘ow’ in response, “What the hell Tony! We’re dead if Nat or Pepper sees that hole in the wall!”

Tony shakes his head in denial, “No, no it’s fine, we can work something out. Um, ah look we can just put these blueprints up as a poster or something. They’ll never know.”

You scoff at the idea, “Really? They’re the most observant people we know.”

Tony releases a sigh of frustration as he heads towards another set of blueprints decorating a wall at the opposite side of the lab. He makes quick work of lifting the set of plans, showing a gathering of wooden panels covering what can only be assumed as another hole formed by Tony himself.

“Trust me, I’m an expert by this point. We’ll be okay. They won’t notice, and if they do I know a great spa we can send them to as compensation for our less than genius ways.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, “‘Our less than genius ways’? It was your-”

Tony instantly points to the newly covered flooring from your previous incident, with the colouring not matching perfectly, it’s quite an obvious change from the original decorating scheme of the lab, “Ah, well maybe the spa will be a good idea.”

You cringe at the realisation that you’re just as guilty as Tony is and opt to change the lead of the conversation, “How about we carry out your plan in covering up the hole and stick some more AC/DC on huh?”

Tony claps his hands and rubs them together in agreement, “I knew you were my favourite for a reason. Alright, I’m sticking ‘Thunderstruck’ on, is that cool with you?” Tony asks as he makes his way over to grab some spare blueprints in association with his ‘Mark LXXIX’ suit.

You nod to confirm, grabbing some spare pins from one of Tony’s drawers to help him secure the prints in their new place for the time being.

Tony announces the song request to ‘F.R.I.D.A.Y’, allowing the A.I. system to play it through the speakers placed around the lab.

As you both manoeuvre the plans across the gap- to ensure it’s covered completely. The two of you hum along to the beginning of the next song, rocking your heads slightly as you repeat the ‘Thunder’ intro.

With a few pins secured later, the blast hole is covered to a relatively good standard, “Awesome, I’ll call Happy up later to see if he can help source some materials to patch up the wall, then we should be in the clear.”

You hold your hand up to give Tony a high five, to which he enthusiastically completes with a slap of his own hand.

“Well, now that’s taken care of. Who’s gadget is next on the list for completion?” With Tony’s prototype being practically considered as lethal, it’s safe to say it’s on the back burner for now.

You quickly slide over to the desk filled with several pieces of equipment and a list based on their errors, left by each team member, “Um, we have Peter’s mask on here-“

“What’s the issue?” Tony asks as he picks up the Spider-Man mask, flipping it around to spot anything out of the ordinary.

“It says here that ‘the wrong suit commands come up during combat’ and basically some A.I. glitches.” You toss the piece of paper aside once you have read out the issues raised by Peter Parker himself.

“Alright, whilst I get the data needed to scan through his suit software; you can try it on and see if anything comes up on initial use.” Tony says as he uses his lab technology to produce a holographic screen, containing all the information associated with Peter’s suits.

“Isn't it just set up to respond to Peter?” You question as you take the mask from Tony.

He shakes his head in response, “No, the advanced features are. Though some default ones are available to known members of the team so it should work if you wear the mask.” Tony explains as he uses his fingers to remove irrelevant data from his viewpoint.

You pull the mask over your face, revelling at the feeling of the soft, comforting material used to produce Peter’s suit.

“Hey, why does Peter get the cool material? My suit is gross compared to this.” You question as you look around the lab, waiting for the A.I. to kick in.

Tony rolls his eyes at your question, “Well, my dear y/n, Peter takes care of his suit and only needs an upgrade, what every six months. You on the other hand are in here every week with a new issue.”

You place your hand on your chest in offence, “The battle damage just means I work hard during missions.” You proclaim.

Tony laughs at your excuse, “Right yeah, battle damage, are you sure it isn’t bedroom-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll never speak to you again.” You immediately interrupt, knowing exactly where Tony’s vulgar mind was going.

Tony scoffs at your words, “Yeah right, I know I’m your favourite member of the team so the silent treatment wouldn’t last long. Anyway, back to the task at hand, activate the mask.”

Tony finally gathers all the information needed for the application of Peter’s suit.

“Um, how do I do that exactly?” You ask as you squint your eyes in curiosity, having never used this type of tech before.

“Just speak to the A.I, I think Peter named his suit’s A.I. Karen.” Tony says absentmindedly as he sets up a diagnostics test ready to run on the suits system.

You take a deep breath in to focus your attention on the mask, “Um, hi Karen, it’s-“

“Hello Miss y/l/n, how may I assist you?” You practically jump out of your skin when the A.I. responds, having not been expecting it so soon.

As you compose yourself, you take a moment to inspect the filters rapidly switching in front of your eyes from the masks’ inputted capabilities.

“Tony, the system seems a bit hectic, it can’t focus on one thing. It’s like there’s too much going on.” You say as you move your sight around the room, studying the information coming up in front of you from the suit in concern with each object you focus on.

“Okay, I think the wiring within the material needs to be re-assessed, just ask Karen to scan for potentially suitable areas to take cover in for battle mode, and we’ll go from there.” Tony instructs you clearly.

You take a moment to clear your throat, opting to sit on top of a clear desk as you prepare yourself to address Peter’s A.I. system, “Karen, activate-“

“Instant Kill Mode Activated.” The A.I. finishes the command in combat with your own instruction.

The mask enters a lethal pattern of behaviour, creating a red hue that distorts your vision as it searches for potential targets around you.

“Uh, Tony! A little help, what do I do? How do I stop this thing?!” You shout in a panicked manner, worried that you’ll end up doing something irresponsible with having the out of control mask on your head.

Tony attempts to ignore your frantic state as he turns your way, “I don’t know, maybe try taking it off your head?” He says in a sarcastic tone.

You halt your worries at his words, moving your hands up slowly to peel away the mask. Once it’s removed, your vision is returned back to normal, without having the mask’s influence at hand.

Tony smirks at your panicked state, “You doing okay there y/n?”

You throw the mask in his direction playfully, “I totally had it under control.” You affirm to Tony but mostly to yourself- though you never want to use Peter’s tech again.

“Yeah, of course you did. That’s why you were practically screaming for my help when all you had to do was take it off. Very controlled.” Tony can’t help but carry out the opportunity to tease you.

“Yeah well you suck so case closed.” You say as you take a seat next to Tony to study the screen, trying to escape a Stark teasing session.

“Aww you suck too.” Tony moves over to rub a hand through your hair, causing you to smack his hand away with a laugh, “All joking aside, it’s just a faulty connection, it won’t take long to fix. Do you want to see if you can fix it?”

You beam at the opportunity, grabbing the relevant tools Tony sets out for you to use.

“Okay, first you need to flip it inside out, then you’ll see a stream of wires leading throughout the structure of the mask. The diagnostics shows it’s the blue wires that have an off connection so-“ As you follow Tony’s guidance, a knock interrupts the two of you.

You both look to see Dr. Cho standing at the lab entrance, waving. Tony rushes up to open the door for her, once he enters the passcode to open the mechanism Dr. Cho enters the work space.

“Hello, I came by to drop y/n’s routine post-mission test results off.” She says as she hands Tony the folder containing information based on your blood work.

After every mission it’s compulsory to have a medical checkup and blood test to see if any hazardous materials have entered the system.

“Thank you Dr. Cho, it’s a pleasure seeing you as always.” Tony says as he leads her back out of the lab.

“My pleasure, though I must say, your music taste certainly hasn’t changed over the years.” Dr.Cho says as she enters the doorway to exit.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Have a good one.” Tony bids the doctor a farewell as he heads back over to you.

Just as he’s about to sit down he waves the folder in front of you, “Want me to open it whilst you work on the wires?”

You nod to confirm, focusing your attention on untangling the intricate makeup of the wiring system running throughout the material.

Tony flips over the folder to retrieve the results from inside, he widens his eyes in horror once he reads the final test results, “Oh my god.”

His low tone causes your gaze to shoot up, “Wait, what? What’s wrong, is there something concerning with my blood work?” You hurriedly ask him, distressed at the thought of something serious being wrong.

“Y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Your heart drops at his words, worry surges through your body at the possibility of something serious being wrong, “Tony just tell me, do I need Nat here to know?”

Tony instantly shakes his head, “No, that won’t be necessary. Though saying that, I’m sorry to say but you’re positive.”

You slowly set down the tools you are using for Peter’s mask to focus your study on Tony’s features intently, hoping to gauge some answers from his mannerisms, “What for?” You let out timidly.

Tony releases a sigh before revealing his answer, “Y/n, you have ‘dumbasstitis’.”

You rip the folder from Tony’s hands as you use it to smack him with, “You asshole, I thought you were being serious. You’re cruel.”

Tony laughs as you continue your actions against him, “Alright, alright it was a joke. You’re all clear y/l/n.”

You stop to open the file, double checking that you are in fact clear of any irregularities in your system.

“I’m so going to get you back for that.” You warn Tony as you finish reading through your papers.

Tony pats you on the arm, “I count on it, sorry y/l/n.”

“Hmm, I bet you are.” You use the folder to tap him on the head with before throwing it on the desk, so it can be taken care of later.

Tony collapses into his work chair, stretching slightly from the prolonged work being carried out, “How many more gadgets do we have on the list?” He wonders as he awaits your answer.

“Too many.” You say as you grimace at the remaining workload for you and Tony to complete.

Tony claps his hands together, “Right, my glamorous work assistant, let’s get back to it.”

————

“Where are they? They know we have dinner reservations booked for 7pm.” Natasha asks as she paces the living area of the compound, annoyed that Tony and yourself have failed to show up ready on time.

Pepper watches her every step with intent, “They were doing lab work today, you don’t think they’re still in there?“

Natasha stops her pacing to face Pepper, “If they are, that can’t be good news. They were supposed to be finished hours ago.” Natasha releases frustratedly, glancing at her phone to see if she has any missed messages from you to explain your absence.

Pepper stands from the couch and brushes down her elegant dress, ready for the double date scheduled between both couples, “Well, they’ve either hurt themselves by messing around and are too stubborn to tell us; or they’re cleaning up a mess from a test ‘gone wrong’. Either way, I think we should head to the lab.”

Natasha nods her head in agreement and with that, the two women head to the lab, partly dreading the chaotic scene that they anticipate to find.

—

Once Pepper and Natasha make it to the lab, they can’t help but watch the chaos unfold through the glass doors.

You’re currently chasing Tony around the lab, as he desperately sprints in various directions in an attempt to dodge your attacks.

Pepper inputs the passcode to unlock the lab’s secure doors- with the passcode being a combination of her and Morgan’s birthday.

Once the doors have opened, the two women are able to hear the conversation being carried out by the two of you- having the glass barrier muffling it beforehand.

“Y/n, stop, you don’t have to do this-“ Tony leaps out of the way of the electric shock being sent in his direction.

“Oh Tony, come on. How else am I supposed to test if Nat’s ‘Widow Bite’ device has the correct voltage. Stay still, you’re only making it worse.” You laugh as you aim your wrist towards Tony’s chosen area of cover.

Through your concentrated hunt for Tony, you fail to notice the unimpressed expressions on Natasha and Pepper’s face.

Once you hear a shuffle from Tony’s suspected location- under a desk. You do a strategic roll across the floor and aim the weapon out, however Tony is nowhere to be found.

You raise a confused eyebrow as you look under the desk; adamant that Tony was under it.

Though as soon as you hear the high pitched charging sound of one of Tony’s repulsors, you know he’s now behind you.

You quickly swivel around to aim the Widow Bite device at Tony, with having him matching your defensive position with his own weapon of choice- to which he armed himself with during his attempt to take cover.

The two of you focus your intense gazes at each other, neither one of you wavering in your intimidating ways.

That is until the two of you break out into a series of laughter, sending a wave of confusion over Natasha and Pepper, who watched the whole ordeal unfold, “You almost had me y/l/n. Oh that’s a thought, I think I have a new target simulator we can use in here.”

You pull yourself up from the floor in excitement, “No way! Can we use any weapon on it?!” You ask happily, absolutely loving any training sessions carried out using Tony’s advanced and unique simulations.

“You should be able to, let me load one up now-“ Tony’s words are interrupted once the two of you hear someone clearing their throat.

You both pull your gazes to the entrance of the lab, now noticing your irritated partners.

As you register their appearances, you instantly recall having dinner plans with them, which you completely forgot about.

“Hi-“

Natasha raises her hand to silence you, “What part of ‘don’t be late’ did the two of you not understand?” She asks in a dangerous tone.

You and Tony look between yourselves in trepidation, hoping that one of you has a good excuse as to why you didn’t show up on time, “Um, we have been working.” Tony says timidly.

Pepper glances around the room in peculiarity, studying the organised chaos, “What part of this is work.” She asks as she mostly gestures to your newly built cardboard box fort.

“We needed a base.” Tony fills in the gaps of Pepper’s question.

“You were supposed to be working on gadgets, why would you need a base?” Pepper questions further.

Tony and yourself look towards the ground when you decide to answer, “We were playing spies.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at your antics, “Right, well we’ve missed the reservation now so the two of you are going out to pick us up some takeout, whilst me and Pepper go and chill out. Do you understand?” Natasha firmly questions.

You and Tony nod, refusing to upset Natasha further, “Yes Nat.”

She smirks, “Good, now hurry up you morons, we’re starving.” Natasha says in a playful way.

At the lightening of Natasha’s tone, you instantly remove the widow bite device from your wrist and go to move out of the lab to pick up some dinner with Tony.

In your hurried state, the two of you nearly forgot one of the most important things to complete before leaving the compound. You and Tony rush over to the two women, allowing Tony to kiss Pepper goodbye.

Though when you lean in for a kiss for Natasha, she places a finger on your lips, “If you go to Sal’s Pizza, what do you have to make sure detka?”

You speak in a muffled state as Natasha’s finger continues to block your mouth, “To only get stuffed crust if the garlic mozzarella cheese is back in stock.”

Natasha smiles sweetly at you, “Atta-girl.” She pulls you in for a kiss, bidding you farewell before you leave with Tony.

“Now hurry up, then we can all pick a movie to watch when you get back.” Natasha suggests.

“Okay, I love you, we won’t take long.” You say as you tap Tony to signal for the two of you to leave.

“I love you too, now go.” With that, you and Tony finally exit the lab through a passage to retrieve a car from his impressive garage.

Just as Natasha and Pepper turn to leave the lab, Natasha notices a disturbance with a set of blueprints on one of the walls. She steadily walks over to remove the plans, curious as to what lies beneath them.

Once removed, the damage in the wall is apparent, with the breeze from outside playing against the blueprints, causing the movement. You weren’t wrong about them being the most observant people you know.

“Sometimes I wonder why we even date them.” Pepper shakes her head at the damage, not even having the patience to wonder how this destruction occurred.

“There’s supposed to be a sweet and heartfelt reason behind that question, but all I can think is that they’re goofballs, but they’re our goofballs.” Natasha chooses to pin the blueprints back in their place. Allowing you and Tony to keep the illusion that Natasha and Pepper are none the wiser to your lab based shenanigans.

“Though they’re goofballs, we wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Pepper says as she strides towards the exit.

Natasha walks up alongside her, “We certainly wouldn’t. No matter how many holes they blow in this place.”

The two women laugh as they begin to share stories originating from yours and Tony’s adventurous friendship, through the years.

Knowing that soon you and Tony will do something astonishing to add to the whole list of crazy tales that make up your incredible friendship.

#marvel #mcu #tony stark #slightly smarter nat’s writing #fan fic #slightly smarter nat #marvel fan fic #iron man #tony stark one shot #tony stark fic #tony stark fanfiction #the avengers #tony stark x you #marvel one shot #natasha romanoff #pepper potts #slightly smarter nat’s requests #tony stark x reader #iron man imagine #tony stark imagine #platonic fanfiction #tony stark platonic #avengers fanfiction #tony stark x y/n #robert downey jr #pepperony #marvel au #platonic friendships